Father Knows Nothing
by Romantique The Original
Summary: An 'AndItsOuttaHere/RomantiqueTheOriginal' collaboration. Graham Yost may have his beginning to Season 5, but we two fans have ours, too. This fic is based on nothing but our imaginations and takes place sometime after the end of Season 4.
1. Chapter 1

_Intro_

Raylan heard the happy high-pitched shrieks as he came out of the restroom, tucking the hem of his shirt into his jeans. He adjusted his belt, checked his fly out of habit, and stepped out of the hallway into the bullpen. The scene that greeted him didn't register for a moment, and he shook his head as if to clear it.

A crowd of marshals was hovering around his desk, peering at the contents of the baby carrier sitting on top. A familiar figure perched on the edge of the desk, one stiletto-clad foot swinging as she dangled a stuffed monkey in the air. The shrieking increased in direct proportion to the proximity of the monkey to the baby, and chubby hands reached up.

"Well, hello there, Daddy. Lookie who came all the way from Miami for a visit," Art said as Raylan walked over. "Ain't she a sweetie?" He leaned closer.

"Smile for Uncle Art, Willa," Winona encouraged.

"She's sure a pretty thing," Rachel said.

Nelson nodded in agreement. "Look at those big blue eyes."

"And those long lashes," Rachel said. "I'd kill for those."

Tim stood a safe distance away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, as if babies were contagious.

"She's smart, too," Winona said. "She's already figured out how to get her shoes and socks off. We lose a sock a day."

Raylan slipped past Tim to get behind the desk. "Winona? What're you doin' here?"

Winona looked up, blue eyes meeting his. "Nice to see you, too, Cowboy."

Rachel shot him one of her 'no bullshit' looks, lips pursed together in disapproval, and Tim turned his head to hide a grin as he headed back to his desk.

The phone on his desk rang and Tim answered. "Art," he said after a moment. "Phone call for you." He mouthed _F.B.I_ and rolled his eyes.

"Shit," Art said. Then, his eyes slid to Winona. "Sorry. No swearing in front of the baby." He waved his fingers in front of Willa's face. "Bye-bye for now. You be good for your mama and daddy and come back to see us."

He gave Raylan a grin and a wink. "Have fun."

"Winona," Raylan repeated quietly once the crowd had dispersed. "What are you doin' here?"

She smiled. This was not the warm, comforting smile of their late-night video chats, this was the smile that meant she had his number. "Since you couldn't come to see us, I thought we would come to see you." She scooped Willa out of the carrier. "Say hi to Daddy, 'Punkin'."

"Gah!" Willa shrieked, kicking her legs.

Winona held her out. "Here," she smirked. "She doesn't bite."

"Yet," Raylan said. He took the baby a bit awkwardly, holding her to his shoulder and patting her back. She reached up with one hand and grabbed at his ear lobe.

"Ow!"

Winona's laugh bubbled out, and her eyes lit up. "That's why I don't wear earrings much anymore."

"Thanks for the warning." He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "You wanna have some lunch?"

"I can't," she shot back in a millisecond flat. Firmly grabbing hold of the strap of her leather hobo handbag with both hands and turning on her heel, she said, "I'm meeting Gayle for lunch, and I'm running late. Have fun with your 'Daddy Time!'"

As she sprinted out the main doors of the Marshal Service office, Raylan chased after her with Willa in tow.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he tried to slow her pace with his voice. "You can't just leave Willa here with me, now. I'm workin'."

By now, he was following her out in the hallway to the floor elevators. Tim and Rachel looked at each other and, unable to hold it in any longer, erupted in laughter.

"Raylan's been punked," Tim snorted.

"I don't think this a joke," Rachel surmised with a big smile. "This is for real, but it is funny to watch our cool, unflappable cowboy suddenly become ... flappable … when it comes to a harmless little baby."

"Good times," Tim chuckled and nodded with a gleam in his eye.

Back outside of the elevator, Winona pushed the button and waited for the car. "Well, I guess I _can _leave her with you now. You're her father, Raylan."

"I know that," Raylan said, breathing hard, his adrenaline running. "I'd be happy to watch her this evenin'," he began to negotiate his plight. "When I get off from work. I can't just walk off the job now," he argued. 'It's unprofessional!"

"That's not what Art said," she countered. "He said you've got, and I quote, 'boatloads of paid time off you've been banking for decades.' He said I'd be doing my country a favor by getting you to let go of some of your stockpile of vacation time you accrued in the 90's, grandfathered in, and is being paid out at higher current and future inflationary rates."

"Huh?" Raylan screwed up his face, confused by the high powered accounting lingo that sounded like typical Federal bullshit.

Winona had rehearsed that one and was ready for all of Raylan's predictable comebacks, prepared to go further if need be.

"You and Willa can have a nice few days together, some bonding time," she waved. "Everything she needs is in the diaper bag. There's frozen breast milk and homemade baby food in a chill bag with an ice pack and instructions for warming and feeding. The pack will keep it cold, long enough for you to transfer it all to a fridge. Everything she needs is in there, except for enough diapers. I didn't have enough time to buy more diapers," she said, unapologetically.

"A few days?" he uttered in disbelief, keying in on those three words.

With each passing moment, this was becoming more preposterous.

"Go buy your baby some more diapers, Raylan," Winona snipped. "After all these months of not participating in your baby's life, it's the least you can do."

_Ouch. That stung. _

Stunned, Raylan just stood there with his mouth agape and Willa in his arms, watching Winona leave as she entered the empty elevator and the doors close behind her.

_Damn, Art … Figures he was not only a part of all this, but the seeming mastermind. _

The walk back inside the office was a much longer one than the one outside.

Once inside he immediately approached Tim and Rachel. "Would you mind keepin' an eye on Willa for a sec? I need to talk to Art."

Without saying a word, Rachel and Tim did an impromptu round of 'Rock, Paper, Scissors.' Tim lost and Raylan started to hand baby Willa over to him.

"No," Tim held up his hands in protest. "Can't do it."

"Why not?" Raylan asked. "You lost."

"Doesn't matter," Tim was firm. "I don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies," he mocked the line from Gone with the Wind.

Raylan turned a pleading gaze towards Rachel, holding Willa out for Rachel to take her.

"Afraid not, Cowboy," she smiled. "I'm not about to insert myself in the middle of this one."

"Hmmph," Raylan uttered, suddenly getting the full picture.

He brought his daughter in closer to his chest and headed to go and speak with "Uncle Art".

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Art looked up from his paperwork at Raylan's knock, wire-rims perched on the end of his nose. "What can I help you with, Raylan? From what Jeannie in the mailroom says, the _Piggly Wiggly _has the best prices on diapers, unless you want to drive all the way out to the Walmart on 64."

"Art, why'd you tell Winona I could take time off? I got the inventory on Monroe's place to write up and..." Raylan began. Then, he felt wetness soak through his shirt onto his arm. "Shit!" He yelped, holding the baby out in front of him. Willa's little face puckered at his loud voice and the sudden movement.

Noting the dampness on Raylan's sleeve, Art shook his head. "No, that would be pee. Shit is thicker, darker, and smells a helluva lot worse. Take it from a man with two daughters and three grandkids."

Willa's face flushed red and the pucker turned into a full-fledged howl.

"Guess she doesn't like bein' wet," Art chuckled. "You'd better go on and change her. There's one of those fold down tables in the _Family _restroom by the elevators." He dropped his head to his paperwork, but the shaking of his shoulders betrayed his amusement.

With Willa still wailing, Raylan backed out of Art's office and snagged the diaper bag off the desk with one hand.

He cast a pleading look at Rachel who rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm a woman you think I'm gonna take pity on you and change that baby's diaper? You oughta know better." She turned back to her computer, shaking her head.

"I've never done this before." He mumbled. He lugged the bag and the baby down the hall, relieved to find the family restroom unoccupied. He managed to get the fold down baby shelf down and Willa secured. He grabbed a diaper from the bag, thankful that Winona had put them on top. Then, he stared down at Willa, whose screaming had faded into whimpers. She looked up at him, lower lip trembling. None of this was her fault.

"It's okay," he murmured. "We'll figure this out." He felt around and found the waist of her leggings, pulling them down to expose the soaked diaper. Scrunching up his nose, he tugged the taped sides apart, pulled the diaper out from under her, and tossed it in the trash. Freed and exposed to the air, Willa kicked her legs and gave him a smile. Something tightened in his chest, and he swallowed hard.

There was a knock and Nelson stuck his head in. "Wow. Art was right. You're farther along than I thought you'd be," he said.

Raylan glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"There's a pool. Rachel said you wouldn't make it past the tights, and Tim wasn't sure you could even find a clean diaper in the bag. I thought you might hedge on actually taking the wet diaper off, but Art had faith in you."

Raylan slid the clean diaper under Willa and peeled the plastic away from the tab. "Nice to know someone thinks I'm capable."

"You wiped her off, right?"

"Huh?"

"You gotta wipe her bottom off," Nelson, an experienced father of five-year old twins, admonished. "Front to back. Otherwise, she's gonna get diaper rash. You don't want diaper rash." He reached into the bag and pulled out a packet of wipes. "Hmmm. Must be a good brand. Deborah used the same kind on the twins. Have at it, Daddy. I'm gonna go tell Art he won the pool."

_(To be continued …)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 1_

_A Fish Out of Water_

Raylan finished the task, and with Willa freshly diapered he headed back into the office, father and daughter both in a much better mood. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, spending a little time with his girl. Surely Winona had been kidding about being away 'a couple of days.' He didn't think she'd been away from the baby for more than a couple of hours since she was born.

He rapped his knuckles on Art's door. "Congratulations," he said, stepping inside. "How much didja win?"

"Twenty bucks," Art said, smiling. "She looks happier."

"Yeah," Raylan agreed. "Hey, look Art, I know it's not regulation, but can I just take her back to Monroe's? I got that inventory..."

"Are you out of your mind?" Art interrupted. "No. We can't be responsible. And, Winona finds out she'll kill you and then I'm short a Marshal. You're a pain in the ass, but being short-handed is worse."

"But I can't take her back to the bar. Winona wouldn't like that either."

Art rubbed his chin and leaned back in the chair. "Why don't you try out that fancy new hotel down the street? What's it called? I heard they have kitchenettes and everything."

Raylan sat, settling Willa on his lap. She reached out for the pen set near the edge of Art's desk.

"Unh-uh," Art said, wagging a finger. He moved the pens away.

"Gah!" Willa cried. Denied, she stuffed her fist into her mouth and drooled.

"Not a bad idea, I guess." He dipped his head, taking in the soft baby smell of his daughter. Then his head snapped up. "Shit."

"Watch it." Art looked at him reprovingly. "You don't want that to be her first word, do you?"

"I can't take her anywhere. I got no car seat, no crib...this has to be a bad joke. Winona's playin' me, isn't she? And you all are in on it." He craned his neck to look out through Art's office window. "She'll be back any minute."

Art shook his head. "No one is playing you, Raylan." He pulled a glossy pamphlet out of his drawer and slid it across the desk. The cover read _Serendipity Retreat Spa and Salon_ and showed the beautiful, perfectly tanned back of a woman receiving a massage. "Winona and her sister are on their way to a spa weekend in Cincinnati. In fact, it's a belated baby gift from Judge Reardon's staff and all your friends in this very office."

Raylan picked up the paper. "What the hell?"

"Tsk-tsk. Again with the language."

"She's really gone?" His voice held disbelief and a hint of despair. Willa stretched her neck to look up at him.

"She'll be back on Sunday."

Raylan just sat there, stunned. In fact, he literally looked a little green around the gills. Art picked up his phone receiver out of the cradle.

"Tim, would you come in here? Thanks."

A moment later Tim came bounding in.

"Yeah, boss?"

"It seems Winona failed to leave Raylan the base for Miss Willa's car seat carrier. Would you go take a look at the underside of it and tell me who the manufacturer is? It's out there sittin' on top of Raylan's desk."

"Sure thing."

In less than a minute, he was back. "Safety 1st," he reported.

"Fine. Now, I need for you to go over to the Target store and pick up a Safety 1st rear-facing car seat base," Art said, scribbling down the information as he spoke. He passed the Sticky Note off to Tim. "Here, I wrote it down so you don't forget. Ask for help in the Baby Department if you need it. Or better yet …"

At the same time, Art and Tim both said, "… take Rachel with you."

Raylan remained seated, holding the baby, and watching his life unfold before his eyes as if he was the disinterested party he had been just an hour ago. The truth was, he was actually petrified with cluelessness about how to care for a little one.

"And while you're there, pick up a big pack of Huggies Little Snugglers. A Size 3 oughta do her, and a smaller package of the Overnight Huggies in the same size. And some more diaper wipes. Here, let me write all this down for you."

Raylan didn't understand a word Art said. Art appeared to be very well versed in this foreign baby language.

Art followed by writing it all down on another Sticky Note, reached into his wallet and peeled off ten twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Tim.

"Bring back the change," he bellowed. "It should cost far less than that. And I want the receipt. Don't go buyin' yourself lunch on me."

"Understood," Tim acknowledged with a smirk, as he'd been guilty of buying his lunch on his boss before.

After Tim was discharged to begin his mission, Art returned to his desk.

"Consider it a gift to little Willa here," Art spoke to Raylan referring to the money. "Now, you'd best be making that hotel reservation. They have cribs available at most hotels. Just ask when you make the reservation, or did you not know that?"

"No, Art," Raylan scoffed. "I did not know that."

Raylan then stood and handed Willa to Art so that his hands were free to take out his wallet and pull out a credit card to make the reservation.

"You really are new at this, aren't you?" Art asked, taking the baby. He was amazed at the depths of his marshal's cluelessness. "It's a good thing babies are more durable than they look."

Raylan went out to his desk to make the reservations, but first, he stopped by Nelson's.

"You wouldn't be available to help a fellow out in this situation with Willa, now would ya?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Nelson asked.

Shifting his weight, Raylan continued, "I mean, could I pay you and your wife to watch little Willa for the next three days?"

Nelson, who would normally jump at the chance to place himself into Raylan's good graces truthfully answered, "I'd love to help you out, but I feel it's only right to warn you that my girls are home from school with head lice."

Raylan instinctively made a disgusted face and took a full step back away from his coworker's desk. The mere mention of the words made his scalp suddenly begin to itch.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for the warnin'" he said and headed back over to his desk.

At $105.00 a night for 3 nights at a mid-week rate and AAA Discount courtesy of the Marshal Service, the special rate seemed a little stiff to the man who didn't spend a whole lot of money. But then again, the thought occurred to him that he probably came out of this deal okay with Art buying the car seat base and all the diapers.

A little later, Art showed Raylan how to make and heat a bottle of the breast milk, and Raylan fed Willa and burped her for the first time with a little coaching from his boss. It went fairly well. Willa fell asleep before she finished her bottle, and Raylan carefully placed her in her carrier seat and strapped her in.

Then, Tim and Rachel returned bearing the haul from Target and the receipt and change for Art.

"Show him the bib you bought," Rachel said, smiling.

Proudly, Tim pulled the bib out of the bag and showed it to Raylan. It said, _'Daddy is a_ _Dipstick'_ on the front of it.

"Nice," Raylan sneered. "I'm so happy I can amuse."

"Actually, I want to thank you," Tim said, grinning for ear to ear. "Due to your absence, I just found out I'm moving into the Monroe house with Rachel."

Losing his newly found, free, temporary, upscale digs to Tim was a stinging penalty for Winona's impromptu visit. "Well, good for you," Raylan sounded insincere. "And thank you for making the run to Target."

"You're welcome," he said with a wince. "But I didn't do it for you. I did it for the baby."

"Then, I thank you for my daughter," he said.

"She's welcome," Tim smiled. "Along those lines, toss me the keys to your Lincoln. Jimmy, the Security Guard assigned to the Courthouse graveyards over at the Shriner's Children's Hospital. He's part of their detail who correctly inspects the parent's car seats before the babies can be released when they're born. He said if I bring him the base, he'll make sure it's installed correctly.

"Thank you again, from Willa," Raylan reached in his pocket, retrieved his keys, and threw them to Tim.

"Don't thank me," he said. "It was Art's idea."

Tim left with the key and the Safety 1st box under his arm. That left Raylan and a sleeping Willa alone with Rachel.

Working on her computer, Rachel shook her head in disgust. "Gee, it's only been an hour, and you've already gotten Art to buy diapers, Tim's getting the car seat installed, _and_ you tried to buy off Nelson to watch your kid."

"I didn't ask anyone to do anything," he shrugged, "well, except for Nelson. The rest is all on Uncle Art. But it was me who booked a hotel room at a nice place for the two of us, complete with a crib, and I fed and changed her for the very first time. What do you want from me? I'm tryin'."

Looking up from her screen, she answered with a deadpan stare. "What do you want from me? A cookie? You're Willa's daddy. You're _supposed_ to do those things and a whole lot more."

"Are you mad at me for somethin'?" Raylan was sometimes slow on social cues directed at him.

"We've all watched you shirk your parental responsibilities for the past six months," she drew him a picture. "I just think it's time you cut the crap, stepped up, and started acting like the father you are. You have been given a wonderful gift in little Willa. It's about time you stop avoiding her, get to know her, and start to appreciate her."

"Maybe I have some of that comin'," Raylan let out a long sigh. "You certainly said it nicer than Winona would have."

"Oh, if you were the father of my child, neglecting _my baby_?" Rachel raised her eyebrows, "I'd kick your ass."

"Yes m'am," he said, backing off. A moment later, he sheepishly asked, "If anything happens in the next three days and I need you for somethin', can I call you?"

"No," she answered. Knowing how needy Raylan could be when he was tasked with doing something he didn't want to do, she said, "Figure it out for yourself."

"You can call me," Art bellowed, overhearing part of their conversation. "I'm just a phone call away."

"You worked all this out with Winona, didn't you?" Raylan pointed a long index finger at his boss. "Of course. It's the only way she would have left the baby with me … if you agreed to play backup."

"Raylan, I assured her that you are a capable man and are up to the task," he glared. "Neglecting our own children is not a characteristic I'm gonna foster out of any one of my marshals. We all deal with the ugly underbelly of humanity, every day. We see neglect and abuse and the product of irresponsible behavior up close. You have been actin' like a scared boy afraid to take responsibility in the care of his infant daughter. And there's no way to get over the fear than to dive right in. You've done fine so far today. It's like anything else, it just takes time and practice."

"But what if …" Raylan interrupted.

"What if … what?" Art interrupted him. "Life is full of 'what ifs.' You deal with them as they come along. Winona anticipated almost every 'what if' there is. Hell, she wrote you a book there in the diaper bag. Why don't you study it while you're waiting for Tim? And I'm around if you _really_ need me."

After Art walked away, Raylan went to get himself a cup of coffee and returned to his desk. He peeked in at Willa, who was still peacefully sleeping, and pulled the notes Winona left him out of the diaper bag.

_The number one tip I can give you is to nap when she naps. She likes to nap around 2:00 every afternoon for about 90 minutes. She wakes up on her own at about 8 in the morning and goes to sleep about 8 at night. She's a good little sleeper overnight._

Raylan glanced at the clock. It was 2:43 p.m. Right on schedule.

_Bedtime routine consists of, in the following order: a bath, a bottle, burping, and I play some songs from a free Android App called "Lullabies Relax & Sleep." I advise you to download this into your phone and keep it on you to use at night. It soothes her._

Raylan clicked on the app icon on his phone and typed _Lullabies_ into the search box. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered when the app Winona suggested popped up. "Who thinks up this shit?" Still, it might come in handy. He clicked the download button and went back to reading.

_DO NOT let her sleep with blankets. There are 2 sleep sacks in the diaper bag in case one gets dirty. They zip over a Onesie. These are safe, wearable blankets recommended by pediatricians._

_Very important: __PUT HER TO SLEEP ON HER BACK__! SHE IS ONLY TO SLEEP IN A CRIB VOID OF TOYS, PILLOWS, BLANKETS, OR BUMPER PADS. JUST PUT HER ON HER BACK ON A STARK COVERED MATTRESS. NEVER PUT HER TO SLEEP IN A CRIB ON HER TUMMY OR HER SIDE!_

_All of these precautions are to prevent SIDS. _

What about the monkey? Raylan thought. It looked to him like she loved that monkey. Didn't all babies sleep with some kind of stuffed animal? When did all this change?

_She just started eating some solid food which is frozen in the diaper bag. Keep them frozen and thaw as needed. __DO NOT__ HEAT THEM TOO HOT. Body temperature is best not to burn her little mouth. We're trying to encourage eating, not discourage eating. She eats solid food 3 times a day, fruits and veggies for now, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Feed her slowly in her carrier seat. There are bibs in the bag. She can have a bottle in between and before bed._

_Check her diaper every couple of hours and, of course, first thing in the morning. There is diaper cream in the bag if she starts to get red. And there is Tylenol, too, if she starts teething, drooling, but don't use it without checking with Art first. It's hard on the liver to use it too often or unnecessarily. _

_Tummy time once a day for about half an hour is very important to her development. Place the play mat out with the toys and put her on her tummy. Don't just walk away, Raylan. You have to watch her, so she doesn't tire and smother! She's building up her muscles to learn to roll over and eventually, crawl. She's working on it. _

_She likes to ride horsey on your knee. You can play peek-a-boo in her infant carrier, and she'll smile. And she loves for you to talk to her. She babbles. So sweet. You can tell her stories, but not the scary ones. And we're working on saying 'Ma-ma' and 'Da-da.' You can help her with that, too._

_Most of all, love her, Raylan. She's the most wonderful baby in the world, and she's yours. If you want to be mad at me, be mad at me. But don't ever be angry with Willa. She's an innocent baby who knows nothing but love._

_Call Art if you need him. He knows how to reach me._

_W-_

"Well, shit." Raylan shook his head in disbelief, suddenly remembering not to use his colorful language around the baby. There was so much to this. He could handle the bed time routine and changing the diapers. He got the bottle down. But all these important details! They would have to take it one step at a time.

He glanced at the clock and decided to re-read the instructions one more time before Willa woke up.

A little while later, Tim returned.

"Okay, you're all set. I can show you how to snap her seat in the Reverse position, and you can be on your way."

"Alright," Raylan let out a deep sigh.

Ready or not, he collected the diaper bag and carrier with a sleeping Willa inside. Tim grabbed the diapers and wipes, and to the parking lot they all went with Uncle Art waving from this glass, fishbowl office.

_(To be continued …)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 2_

Learning Curve  
  
He drove through the light afternoon traffic in downtown Lexington with one hand on the wheel, the other clutching the cell phone to his ear. Raylan was sure Winona would want him to use the Bluetooth and drive with both hands, but he was afraid to wake Willa up. He glanced in the back seat every few seconds, wishing he could see the baby's face, but there was no sound. She must still be sleeping.

"Hey," he said, when Alison answered.

"Hey yourself. How's your day?"

Raylan glanced in the rearview again, shaking his head at the odd sight of a baby carrier in the back of the Lincoln. "Um, well, I got a little surprise today."

"A good surprise or a not-so-good one?" He heard a car door slam in the background and wondered if he'd just missed her at the courthouse or if she was out on a call.

"A good one, I guess. One I thought maybe you could help me out with."

"Oh? What?" Her voice turned teasing. "Do your pins need reset?"

"Heh, no." He grimaced, thinking of the bowling alley and all the other amenities at the Monroe mansion, now denied him. "Winona popped in for a surprise visit and dropped Willa off with me. We're on our way to check in at the Springhill Suites. I thought maybe you'd wanna come by later and meet her."

Alison snorted a laugh. "No, you thought I'd come over and play mama so you didn't have to do daddy-duty. Sorry. Not interested. I spend all day with kiddos. I did three home visits this morning and I've got two more this afternoon. And that's if there's no emergencies."

"Well, you could come over after she goes to sleep," he cajoled, his voice husky. "Winona says she's down by eight and usually sleeps all night."

"Nuh-uh, no thanks. I'll take a rain check," Alison said. "In fact, that's a little creepy."

"Now wait," he protested. "I was only sayin' it'd be nice to see you."

"Right," she scoffed. "Look, it'll be good for you to spend some time with her."

"There's just so much to remember," he said, realizing too late that it came out more like a whine. "Winona wrote me a goddamn novel full of instructions. I'll never keep it all straight."

"Listen to me," Alison said, her voice taking on a detached professional tone. "You'll be fine. You're not gonna be perfect, no one is, but you want to do what's best for her. You've got good intentions, a good heart, and Winona's notes. You'll be fine," she repeated. "You aren't gonna hurt that baby."

"I know that!" Raylan snapped. "I was just hopin' for a little help." He sighed. "Can I call you later if I'm in over my head?"

"That's what the internet is for, Raylan. If you get stumped, or you have a question about what to do, just google it. There are more parenting websites out there than you can shake a stick at. is the one I recommend most to clients, but babycenter might be best for what you're dealing with. Then, there's , just for fathers."

"Gee, thanks for that info Miss Brander," Raylan said, his tone sarcastic.

"I'll text those urls to you, just in case you forget." Alison offered.

The sign for the hotel appeared on the right and he eased the car into the lot, which was mostly empty at this time of the day. He easily found a parking spot near the door and turned the engine off. He slumped in the driver's seat, head down. Alison had been his last, best hope. The reality that he was truly on his own with his daughter was sinking in.

"Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," she said. "Listen, I gotta go. Good luck and have fun with her."

She clicked off.

_Fun. Uh-huh. Sure.  
_  
The clerk at the reception desk beamed a smile as Raylan sat the baby carrier on the counter, Willa's head lolling to one side. He never understood how babies could sleep that way. No wonder they woke up cranky.

"Givens," he said. "I just made a reservation." He slipped his credit card out of his wallet and handed it over.

"She's a doll," the girl lowered her voice for the sleeping baby. "How old?"

"Almost six months."

The girl's fingers flew across the keys and she squinted at the screen. "Here you are." She slid the card through her machine. "Room 148. I'll get the bellhop to put a port-a-crib in the room for you."

She gave him his card back, along with the plastic room key. "Thanks." He slid the card back into his wallet and pocketed the key.

"Will your wife be joining you?"

"Not married."

"Oh. Well, we have a wonderful breakfast buffet in the morning," she stammered, flustered for a moment. She passed a menu to him. "It's in the bar over there. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, that's it." He scooped up the carrier and followed the arrows to room 148. He slid the card through the lock and when it flashed green he turned the knob and went in. It was a spacious room with a kitchenette at one end, a sitting area with a couch, lounger, and flat screen, and a separate sleeping area with two double beds. The curtains were open, flooding the room with afternoon sunshine.

He sat the carrier seat up on the kitchen counter and immediately loaded the milk and food, still cold in the bag, into the fridge. Then, he thought to take the ice pack out and tossed it in the freezer in case they needed to go somewhere over the next few days.

_I'm thinkin' like a father. _He congratulated himself.

Next, he removed his gun and holster. As he double checked the safety, he thought to himself, _Soon enough, I'm gonna have to think about where to safely stow away my gun when she's around._ He'd seen plenty of what could happen when kids got ahold of guns, so he understood the need to keep it out of Willa's reach. Still, he didn't like the idea of not having it close at hand. Maybe he'd ask Nelson what he did when he was home.

As he lay the gun on the nightstand near the bed closest to the door, he heard Willa stir.

"Hey, there," he said, watching to see what she was going to do next.

His baby flashed him a toothless smile. He reached over and grabbed a diaper out of the pack of daytime diapers and the wipes from the bag.

"I think it's time for me to check your diaper action," he said, as he walked towards the nearest bed.

He started to lay her down, then thought to grab a towel from the bathroom and placed it on top of the bedspread, then her on top of the clean towel. He lifted up her little dress and unfastened the tapes on one side of her diaper. She was wet, just as he suspected. He grabbed a couple of wipes, cleaned her up and placed a clean diaper underneath her as he simultaneously tossed the wet one to the floor. Quickly, he taped her diaper, pulling it snug for a good fit. Then, he picked her up.

Willa grabbed the sleeve of his shirt to hang on and clung to him like a little monkey. This made it easy for him to walk around with her, supporting her back with one arm, leaving the other arm free.

"Now, this is pretty cool," he said to her. "With you helpin' out, I can work with one hand."

About that time, there was a tap at the door. It was a bellman delivering the crib. Raylan opened the door wider as the young man wheeled it over to the corner of the room and set it up.

"Will ya' look at that," Raylan said, pleased with any help he could garner. "It comes equipped with a mobile. Sea animals."

After the bellman put a fresh crib sheet on the mattress, he showed Raylan the different buttons that operated the mobile with various lights and sound combinations, as well as where to adjust the volume.

"My hands are full," Raylan said. "I'll catch you later on the tip. We're gonna be here for a few days."

The bellman nodded and then on his way out the door, spied the wet diaper on the floor.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Raylan said, reading the young man's face. "I just put it there for a second. I'll clean it up."

After the bellman let himself out, Raylan gently placed Willa on her back in the middle of the bed while he bent down to pick up the wet diaper. In the time it took him to stand up, he looked at Willa in horror.

"When did ya' learn how to do that?" he asked a baby who could not give him an answer.

The baby had rolled over, dangerously close to the edge of the mattress. Raylan stood close to the edge, preventing her from going any further, as he quickly taped up the wet diaper into a little packet and lobbed it over the counter and into the kitchen sink.

"Come 'ere, you," he said, as he scooped her up in his arms.

She smiled and babbled, "Ma-ma-ma-ma."

On his way to the kitchen, he said, "Yeah, I'm sure your mama will be very proud of you, but right now, Da-da needs figure out where I can put you for a few minutes so I can wash my hands."

"Da-da-da-da," she parroted him.

Raylan smiled at the sound of his name. "Yeah, that's right. I'm Da-da-da-da."

He placed Willa back in her carrier seat next to the sink and tossed that wet diaper into the trash. He turned on the faucet and washed up his hands with soap and water. When he was finished, he reached a long arm over the carrier and grabbed a hand towel.

"What do you say I set up a blanket on the floor and let you get in some of that Tummy Time your mama said is so important before I feed you?" he asked as he rifled through the bag. He pulled out a colorful quilt that had all kids of soft toys attached to it, including some that made a rattle noise, and placed it on top. Upon seeing it, Willa excitedly kicked her hands and legs and cooed with delight.

"Oh, you know what this is?" He figured by her animated reaction.

Once again, he scooped her up, grabbed the diaper bag, and took her into the room to a large open space near the crib. With his one free hand, he laid the quilt out flat on the floor. It looked like a little garden and had rattles, a lady bug, and big sunflower attached that had a soft mirror in the center of it. He gently sat her down, but in less than a second, she began to tip over.

"Whoa now," he said, placing a quick hand at her side to steady her.

Willa reached for a soft cloth stuffed carrot that was attached to the blanket with Velcro and gave it a tug, releasing it from its grip. Immediately, the carrot went into her mouth.

"Ne-ne-ne-ne," she jabbered as she gnawed on the toy.

Raylan lowered his long, lanky frame onto the floor, never losing his grip of the baby and maintaining the use of his hand as a brace for her to retain her balance. Once he was down, he picked her up placed her down on her tummy near the sunflower mirror. She held herself up on her forearms, fascinated by her reflection.

Taking advantage of the moment of tranquility, Raylan pulled out the contents of the diaper bag to see what he had to work with. He found a pacifier and placed it on the blanket.

"Gonna need that," he said out loud.

Three pairs of what looked to be cotton Long Johns, three dresses, a pack of three Onesies, sleep blankets, bibs, pacifiers, a feeding dish and spoon, plenty of clean bottles, a bottle brush, a thermometer, Infant Tylenol, a comb and brush, a package of eight pairs of socks, a couple of story books, and a sweater. Raylan lobbed the wearable blankets into the crib and stacked the clothes and placed them in the bottom dresser drawer, along with the supplies, except for the bowl and spoon and the pacifiers. He figured her dinner would be next on their agenda.

He heard grunting coming from Willa and glanced down. She was no longer up on her forearms but struggling to keep her head up. She appeared to be tiring. Remembering what Winona had written about smothering, he grabbed her and brought her up on his lap.

"That Tummy Time is a work out, huh?" he asked, handing her the carrot toy.

She was content, but drooling. He wiped her mouth with his sleeve.

"What's a little slobber between kin?" he asked.

Over the next couple of hours, Raylan fed her some solid food and ordered himself room service. Then, he gave her a bath in the sink, where she had a great time splashing a lot of the water out of the sink and onto his clothes. He put a clean diaper on her and, with a bit of maneuvering, managed to put her into a Onesie and a sleep sack, just as Winona instructed. Then, he warmed her a bottle and found a bottle for himself in the mini bar … some Kentucky Bourbon to sip on.

He read to Willa from _Good Night Moon_, as he fed her the bottle, burping her when she was halfway through just as Art had instructed. She smelled good after her bath, and she snuggled in close to his chest and was out before her bottle as empty. Slowly and carefully, he placed her on her back and dimmed the light.

After his little drink, he couldn't believe how tired he was. Pleased with how easy the evening went, he toed off his boots and stretched out in the bed, asleep himself a soon as his head hit the pillow.

Sometime later, Raylan was startled awake by Willa's sharp cry, "Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"

"What? Huh?" Waking from a dead sleep to the unfamiliar sound, Raylan bolted upright in bed. He ran a hand through his hair and swung his legs over the side of the bed, inching his way toward the sound in his bare feet.

Willa's eyes were scrunched tight and her mouth wide open. Her sobs disintegrated into hiccups, then resumed. Raylan bent over and picked her up, holding her to his chest.

"Shhh. Shhh," he murmured. "You're gonna wake up the whole hotel." His daughter, it seemed, had quite a pair of lungs. It had to be the middle of the night. Walking back toward his bed, bouncing Willa in his arms, he glanced at the clock.

"9:15? It's only 9:15?!" He looked down at the still fussing baby. "Your mama told me you were a good little sleeper." He wondered if Winona had fibbed or if the change in environment or something else was behind Willa's upset.

He stuck a finger into the diaper. _Nope, it's not that._

Big tear drops were coming from the baby's blue eyes and splashing on her reddened cheeks. She cried and cried and was becoming warm.

"Oh, shit," Raylan was beginning to worry she was sick.

He pulled out his cell and dialed Art. The phone rang and rang until the call was picked up by voice mail.

"Yeah, this is Raylan," he began to leave a message. "I'm sure you can hear the baby screamin' in the background. You oughta hear it from here. So much for you bein' there if I need you."

After he disconnected the call, he called Alison and, once again, he reached only her voice mail. Frustrated, he tried it again by calling Rachel, only to receive the same result.

Finally, he dialed Tim, who answered the call on the first ring with, "Rachel bet you'd be callin' me, next."

"Well, I tried callin' Art, but he wouldn't pick up."

"Oh, you didn't hear the latest," Tim shared. "Art got called into a budget meeting in St. Louis this afternoon. He's in the air as we speak." After a beat, he added, "So, what's wrong with Willa?"

"I dunno," he said, standing in a wide stance, rocking the screaming infant back and forth. "I can't get her to quit crying. She's not wet, and I just fed her."

"Maybe she's lonely?" Tim guessed.

"She's chewin' on her fingers, droolin' like nobody's business," Raylan reported.

"Do you think maybe she's teething?" Tim asked.

"D'ya think?" Raylan was serious. "Winona left me some Tylenol, but she also made me scared to use it."

There was a silence from Tim until he said, "You got some bourbon? I remember my cousin rubbed bourbon on his kid's gums, and it worked like a charm. I know I'd feel a whole lot better if someone would rub bourbon in my mouth."

"I drank it all," Raylan confessed. "There was some in the mini bar I had earlier this evenin'."

"Hmmm, another woman drivin' you to drink? Maybe you could get some more from the Front Desk," Tim suggested.

"At their prices for a little bitty bottle the size of an airline bottle, I'd do better goin' to the liquor store."

"Then, what's keeping you?" Tim asked. "Hey, how about I meet you for breakfast in the morning before I come into work? You're close by, and I hear your hotel has a mean breakfast buffet."

"I could meet you," Raylan answered, as he shoved his feet in his boots. Grabbing the diaper bag, his gun, and the card key, he headed out the door holding tight onto Willa. "All dependin' on if we can get some sleep." Then, he had a thought. "Could ya' run by my place and bring me a change of clothes? The ones in my Go Bag in the trunk are dirty." 

"I'm sure I could, but how do I get in?"

"It's not much of a lock." Raylan admitted.

"So, you're suggesting I pull a B&E?"

"A credit card oughta do it." All the LEOs knew that trick.

After disconnecting the call, Raylan and his wailing baby girl headed to the elevators. He pushed the button. The sudden change of scenery changed Willa's screams into muffled whimpers. After waiting for what seemed to be an eternity for the elevator, he decided to take the stairs.

"C'mon, Willa. You're about to patronize your first liquor store," he explained. "But don't let me catch you in one again until you're like … thirty."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 3_

_The Chick Magnet_

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Tim greeted Raylan as he shuffled into the bar-slash-breakfast room at the hotel the next morning with Willa in one arm and her baby carrier in the other. Raylan didn't much like the greeting when Art used it, and he liked it less coming from the other marshal. Or maybe he was just cranky from lack of sleep. All told, he figured he and Willa had gotten about four hours between them.

"Well, it _is_ morning," Raylan said with a yawn. Willa's bright eyes took in the room full of people and her fist curled tightly into the front of her daddy's shirt.

"By the way? You look like shit," Tim added. "Just thought you should know."

"Gee. Thanks." Raylan was none too surprised that he looked like shit or that Tim would tell him so.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma," Willa jabbered.

"No, mama isn't here."

"She misses her mama?" Tim said. "Maybe that's what was wrong with her last night."

"Nope," Raylan said. He smothered another yawn. "She's teethin'."

"Not even twenty-four hours and you're an expert now?" Tim chuckled.

As gratifying as it would've been to have Tim think so, Raylan confessed, "I went to the liquor store after I talked to you and the clerk there, she has a baby about the same age and recognized the signs right away. She told me somethin' to pick up at the drug store."

Tim looked disappointed. "So, you didn't use the bourbon?"

"I sure did," Raylan said. "I'll go to the drug store today and get the real stuff. The bourbon worked like a charm. Don't tell Winona."

Tim made a motion as if locking his lips with an invisible key. "Never." He motioned to a table by the window. "I grabbed us a table and even got a high chair."

"Tim, thanks for the thought, but Willa's not old enough to sit up yet on her own. That's why I brought this." Raylan held out the carrier with Willa's stuffed monkey inside.

"The waitress asked me whether we wanted a high chair or an infant seat cradle. I didn't know which one because I know less about babies than you do, and I aim to keep it that way. Here, I'll go swap it out." The marshal picked up the small seat and took it to the other side of the room, returning with what looked like a table height stand. In the meantime, Raylan unloaded his arms and took a seat at the table.

"Well, this is handy," Raylan smiled upon seeing the new-fangled contraption. He pushed on the open stand to make sure it was sturdy and pushed the empty carrier into the top of the stand until it clicked. He moved the monkey and a rattle out of the way, placed Willa in the carrier, and strapped her in, closer to him than to Tim. Then, he handed the monkey and rattle to Willa who squealed with delight.

When the waitress came, Tim and Raylan ordered coffee and took turns loading their plates from the buffet. Raylan kept it simple with a pile of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast with jam. Tim, however, filled his plate to overflowing with the eggs plus sausage biscuits and gravy, hash browns, and two slices of French toast with syrup.

Raylan stared, a grin curling his mouth. "You know you can go back for seconds, right? It's an all-you-can-eat buffet."

"Um-hmm," Tim mumbled, chewing. "That's why I didn't take any fruit. Or bacon. Or doughnuts."

Raylan rolled his eyes.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma," Willa droned, smacking the rattle on the tray.

"No," Tim said, pointing to Raylan just as the waitress stepped up to turn the coffee cups on their table right side up. "Da-da."

"Ma-ma-ma-ma," she insisted, giving Tim a wet, toothless grin.

"What a cutie," the waitress said as she stepped up on the other side of Willa and began to fill the coffee cups. "I think it's nice they let y'all adopt. Live and let live if you ask me."

Raylan lowered his head to hide the smirk on his face and waited.

"No, ma'am," Tim said, in his most serious voice. He flashed his badge. "We're U.S. Marshals, and this baby is under our protection."

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked from Tim to Raylan and back, peering closer at the badge. "Why would someone want to hurt a sweet little baby?"

Tim lowered his voice. "I'm afraid that information is confidential."

Raylan turned a smothered laugh into a fake cough and struggled to keep his shoulders from shaking.

"Da-da-da!" Willa squealed, tossing the monkey at her father. It landed in his plate, narrowly avoiding the jam-covered toast.

"Well, she certainly likes you well enough," the waitress noted, turning on her heel and walking away. A second later she was huddled with another waitress, pointing at their table and shaking her head.

"I don't think she believed you," Raylan said, taking his first sip of the much needed caffeine.

As Tim grabbed the bottle of catsup and proceeded to smother his hash browns in the sweet, tomato condiment, he uttered, "Sorry, Raylan, but you're not my type."

"Nor are you mine."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not a blonde."

Before Rayan could object to Tim's comment, Willa began to fuss.

"Wonder what's up with her, _now_?" Raylan asked, trying to distract her with the monkey. Willa would have none of it.

"I bet she's hungry," Tim said in between bites of the potatoes. "If you think about it, it's kinda rude we're eating in front of her. I know it would piss me off."

"Shit!" Frustrated, Raylan stomped his foot under the table. "I gave her a bottle 'bout an hour ago and I meant to bring down her baby food, but bein' how I'm slightly hung over and lackin' for sleep, best I could do was to get us down here for a cup of coffee."

Chasing the hash browns with a bite of a gravy covered biscuit, Tim offered, "Maybe they have something here she could have."

"Maybe," Raylan said. He held his long arm up in the air when he spied the other waitress and waved for her to come over, as he fished Willa's pacifier out of his pocket and popped it in her mouth. It would do for a while.

"Can I get you somethin'?" The much younger, leggy blonde gave a flirtatious smile to the two men with a baby. She was the one with whom their waitress had been gossiping, and her nametag read 'Mandi.'

"Uh-yeah, Mandi," Raylan held up his index finger to make a point. "Do you have anything on the menu appropriate for her to eat?" He flashed her a grin. "She has no teeth."

"Sure," Mandi smiled again. "We have applesauce, and I could bring you a banana you could mash up with your fork and feed her. With a spoon … not the fork." She suddenly seemed to be under Raylan's spell. "I mean you could mash it with your fork and feed her with a spoon. I've seen other customers with babies do it."

"Great!" Raylan was again happy to accept baby help anywhere he could find it.

"Can I ask you something?" her green eyes twinkled against her clear, girl-next-door complexion.

"Mmm 'kay," he answered.

"Is it true you two are marshals and that this baby is in your custody? Or are you two gay?" Tapping her pen on her order pad, she continued, "What's your story?"

"Why?" Tim asked. "Do you have a bet with the other waitress?"

Mandi glared at Tim.

"Well," Raylan leaned closer to her and began by putting his finger across his lips and speaking in a low voice and a slow cadence. "It is true we're marshals. It's partially true the baby is in our custody because she's my daughter. And no. _I'm_ not gay."

"Me neither," Tim immediately piped in.

With a disappointed pout on her face, she surmised, "Soooooooo, you're married?"

"Actually … I'm not," Raylan elaborated. "My baby momma and I are not together anymore, and I'm watchin' little Willa here so she can have a spa vacation with her sister."

"Oh, that's soooo nice," the waitress gushed.

"So, that's how you're going to spin it," Tim said under his breath.

The bright smile returned to Mandi's pretty face. "That's so attractive seein' a law man out with his baby girl."

Again, under his breath, Tim uttered, "Yeah. Bet it makes your ovaries just ache."

Raylan gave Tim a swift kick under the table with his boot and flashed him a face that said 'Knock it off.'

"I'll be right back with … you said her name is Willa?" Mandi asked.

"That's right." By now, Raylan was flirting back.

Flustered from pheromones, she finished her thought. "Such a pretty name. I'll be back with something for Willa to eat."

As she was leaving, Tim shook his head and gave an intentionally audible, "Tsk-tsk-tsk."

"What?" Raylan, annoyed, kept one eye on Tim as he observed Willa going to town on her pacifier.

"I've always known you're a man-whore but watching you use your baby as a chick magnet is low, even for you," he explained his annoyance.

"Jealous?" Raylan grinned. "So much for me lookin' like shit this mornin'."

"No, I'm not jealous. Not at all." Tim let his fork drop in his plate and stopped eating.

Raylan thought this must be serious.

"I come over here to brag to you about how great my night was over at the Monroe mansion last night," he cocked his head to one side. "You know, rub in my good fortune at your bad fortune. And I come here to find you pickin' up a chick … after you already have two."

"Two?" Raylan scrunched up his face.

"Winona and Alison," Tim counted on two fingers.

"Well, I don't have Winona," he reminded Tim.

"Yeah, right," Tim corrected him. "You _could _have her if you weren't such an ass."

"Huh?" Raylan was confused.

"That's what Art and Rachel think, too, by the way," Tim said, taking a sip of his coffee.

After a beat, Tim went on. "What's bothering me is that … you always land on your feet … especially with the ladies … and you don't deserve your good fortune."

"So, you _are_ jealous," Raylan nodded.

Looking down, Tim said, "You could spread a little of your chick magnet action my way."

"How would I do that?" Raylan shrugged his shoulders.

"If you can play the reluctant single father, I guess I could play the reluctant uncle."

Raylan threw up his hands. "But ya' said yesterday you don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies. Ya' have zero interest in Willa."

"Willa's a nice enough baby," he explained. "I'd take a bullet for her because she's yours. But no, I still don't want to be responsible for a kid. That doesn't mean I can't benefit from the attraction of the ladies to your newfound predicament, does it?"

Raylan bit into a tight-lipped grin. "Well, if you'd take a bullet for my kid, I say you can be my baby's chick magnet, wing man any time."

Satisfied, Tim nodded. "Good. Because that's the way I see it."

"I will say this. I gotta hand it to Winona. This parentin' thing is much, much harder than I thought it was gonna be. It's like bein' in a high stakes situation all the time. With no break. There's a part of my mind that's runnin' in a perpetual loop, and it's designated especially for Willa. It's really odd."

"Sounds terrible," Tim offered. "Nope, don't want none of that."

"It's not bad. It's just different."

With a straight face, Tim asked, "You mean it's different you not bein' the center of your own universe?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Tim could answer, Mandi returned. She carried a small dish of apple sauce, another empty dish, and a banana on a tray. "Want me to mash this up for you?"

"That'd be great Mandi, thanks." Raylan gave her another smile.

Willa saw the banana and the rattle fell from her hand to the floor. She cried, "Na-na-na-na-na-na!"

"I think you were right 'bout her bein' hungry," Raylan said.

Tim laughed. "I think she likes bananas."

Mandi finished mashing the banana and handed the saucer to Raylan. "Here you go," she smiled. Then, she slowly bent over in Raylan's direction to pick up Willa's rattle from the floor in a very suggestive fashion. "Let me know if you need _anything _else." Upon standing, she lightly touched his arm with slim fingers, and placed the rattle on the table. "Anything at all."

Once again, under his breath, Tim muttered, "Jesus Christ."

Raylan just chuckled and fed Willa a spoonful of banana. The baby immediately pushed half of the mouthful back out with her tongue. He found that if he scooped it up and shoved it back in, the second attempt worked like a charm. He continued feeding her using this two bite technique until about half the banana was gone and then, he switched to the applesauce.

"Hey Mandi," Tim said, watching the pretty waitress watching Raylan watching Willa. "You wouldn't by any chance have an equally good lookin' friend for Uncle Tim, here, would you?"

"Yeah, Uncle Tim here is a good enough guy," Raylan said, still focused on the feeding task at hand. "Don't let his wisecracks fool ya'."

"I do have a younger sister," Mandi answered, playfully twirling her hair through her fingers.

"Is she a blonde like you?" Tim asked, playing mildly interested.

"No, she's a redhead. A _natural redhead_," she smiled.

Raylan nodded at Tim with a knowing grin.

"Well, what's her name?" Tim wanted to know.

"Randi," Mandi continued with her flirty ways.

"Mandi and Randi," Raylan repeated. "Now, isn't that cute."

Under his breath, Tim dared to ask, "I wonder if Randi is rand…"

Before he could finish the sentence, Tim received a big kick under the table from Raylan.

"Owwww," Tim flashed a look of surprise at Raylan, only Raylan was already there with a 'What the hell' stare of his own that bored through Tim's skull.

Mandi broke the tension by asking, "How long are you fellas goin' to be stayin' with us?"

"A couple more nights," Tim jumped in.

"Uh, Willa and I are stayin' here a couple more nights, but Uncle Tim here is stayin' at the Monroe mansion, right?" He stared darts at Tim.

"Ooooo. A mansion? Really?" Mandi's interest was piqued.

Raylan began to regret his words. He shook his head at the bad idea he saw forming in Tim's mind.

It was too late. "Raylan, you and Willa could come by for a while tonight, couldn't you?"

"Raylan. Your name's Raylan?" Mandi repeated, pleased she was receiving more information about her latest interest.

While giving Willa another bite of the applesauce, he said, "Yeah," to Mandi and turned his attention to Tim. "Art will kill us if we bring civilians into that house, and you know it."

Tim gave a cool nod and said, "Yeah, but since when do you give a shit what Art thinks? Besides, Art's not here."

"Rachel is," he countered. "And that's a B-line back to Art."

"Who's Rachel," Mandi asked with a tinge of jealousy in her voice.

"Mandi, Rachel Brooks is a fellow Deputy Marshal," Raylan explained in an even tone. "The Marshal Service has strict rules against fraternizin' with co-workers."

"We have the same rules here, but that doesn't stop the mice from playin' while the cat's away," she countered.

"No, you don't know Rachel," Tim gave it a try. "She'd kick our asses if we tried anything funny with her or when she's around."

"And she could do it, too. Kick our asses," Raylan grimaced and gave a knowing nod. "That's why we're not goin' over to the mansion to play.

"We could meet back here for drinks," Tim suggested with a little enthusiasm, hoping it would be contagious. "Say seven o'clock?"

Raylan thought for a second, tightened his face, and nodded.

"Sure," Mandi seconded. "I'm not working tonight. I'll call my sis. I'm sure she'd be up for some fun."

"Well, alright," Tim said, pleased with himself. "We'll see you and Randi here, at 7:00."

"Bye," Mandi waved again, making sure her touch lingered down Raylan's long arm, finally touching skin to skin. His eyes flicked to hers. Sure enough, there were sparks between them.

Less than a minute later, after Mandi walked away, Raylan's cell rang. He looked at the screen and told Tim, "I need to take this."

At the same time, Tim pulled out his wallet and peeled off a twenty, laid it on the table and said, "I gotta go anyway. Don't want to be late to the office." And he took off.

Handing a now well-fed Willa her favorite rattle, Raylan answered, "Bob? What can I do for you?"

Constable Bob Sweeney of Harlan County was on the other end of the call.

"Raylan, do you remember that box of your shit I've been carryin' around for you? The one you asked me to take from Arlo's house, and you said you'd be in touch to pick it up? Well … that was over six months ago."

"Has it been that long?" Raylan tried to make light and rubbed his tired eyes. All he could think about was a nap for Willa and for him.

"Bob, you know, I've been busy. Had a baby since I last saw you. In fact, I'm watchin' her right now."

"That's great and all, but here's the deal," Bob explained, sounding none too happy. "The only place I have to keep that box, the one that doesn't even belong to me, is in my Gremlin. Well, that piece of crap finally died, and it's bein' towed to the scrap yard this afternoon along with everything inside. So, if you want this box of family pictures for your kid to see someday, you better come pick it up today before 3 p.m. or it's gonna be smashed to smithereens."

"There's the family Bible in there, too," Raylan lamented under his breath. And he recalled the pictures of his mama and Helen and of him; his baby pictures and photos of his baseball days.

_Winona will skin me alive if I take Willa into Harlan._

"Aren't ya' gettin' another car?" he asked what he thought was the obvious, trying to buy a little time.

"Raylan, we Constables don't make a marshal's salary or drive Lincolns," he complained. "I'll be lucky if I can afford a scooter."

"Really, Bob?" Raylan screwed up his face in disbelief. "A scooter."

"Don't judge, Raylan," Bob cut him off.

"Fine," Raylan gave in, seeing no bargaining angle with this troll of a man. "I'll be there shortly after noon."

Upon disconnecting the call, he let out a long sigh and downed the rest of his coffee, now cooled.

"Willa? Ya' know how I asked you not to say anything to your mama about almost rollin' off the bed? And about me takin' you into your first liquor store at six months of age? And puttin' whiskey on your gums? Well, I need to ask you, _most of all_, not to say anything to your mama about the field trip you and me are gonna take today to Harlan County."

"Ma-ma-ma-ma," grinned his baby girl.

"Shit," he said under his breath. "God, help me now. If Winona finds out about this one, I might as well be a dead man."

_(To be continued …)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 4_

_To Harlan We Will Go_

Back in the hotel room, Raylan put Willa in her seat on the bathroom floor and managed to take a quick shower. A game of peek-a-boo with the shower curtain kept her in view and earned him several drool-y smiles.

He dressed in jeans and one of the clean but rumpled Henley's Tim brought him from the apartment. Willa had some Tummy Time while he packed the diaper bag.

"We got two bottles, some mashed carrots, and four diapers." He looked down at his baby girl. You ain't gonna need more than four diapers – right?" Willa stared up at him with her mama's big blue eyes, and he found himself missing Winona. He shook it off.

"Takin' care of you is hard work," he told the baby. "I guess your mama deserves a little pampering. I might need some myself after this weekend." His pampering though, was more likely to involve a bottle of bourbon or an evening with Alison than a massage.

He slung the diaper bag onto his shoulder, scooped up his daughter and grabbed the baby seat in his free hand. "You and me are goin' on a little road trip."

"Gah!" Willa said, reaching out for the brim of the hat.

"Nuh-uh. Not the hat," Raylan said, ducking his head away.

He had to walk through the lobby to get to the car and Mandi gave him a wave from the bar, still crowded with breakfast diners even though it was almost ten o'clock. His hands full, Raylan shot her a smile.

"See you tonight," she called.

He felt a twinge of guilt. Even though he and Alison had just started up and there really wasn't any notion of exclusivity, the whole thing with Mandi just didn't seem right. Still, he didn't want to back out and leave Tim hanging. He'd go ahead with it, have one drink, and beg off. Claiming exhaustion wouldn't be too far from the truth.

"Alright, Miss Willa," he said as he snapped the seat into the base and buckled her in. "Let's get to Harlan and back before anyone knows we're gone. Especially your mama."

He handed her the stuffed monkey and slid into the front, tossing the diaper bag onto the seat beside him.

The drive to Harlan was familiar, almost rote. Raylan found his mind wandering. What was he even going to do with the box once he got it from Bob? What was he going to do the next time Winona came to visit? He couldn't keep booking hotel rooms to stay in with Willa. He let out a long sigh. He was going to have to find a decent apartment, preferably one without a college bar downstairs. Maybe Rachel could help. She'd moved since her divorce, so she'd know something about the better neighborhoods. It occurred to him that if she could afford a nice place on her salary, maybe he could, too. Plus, he considered that a lot of places offered a discount to LEOs for living on their properties.

Raylan found himself constantly looking in his rearview mirror, for once not for cars that might be tailing him, but checking on the baby. He didn't like the fact he couldn't see her face and thought there must be a way to install a mirror or something to take care of that problem.

Random thoughts kept occurring to him and, as fast as he could solve one problem related to caring for Willa, another one appeared. It got to be so bad, he finally just shook his head to snap himself out of it, and he wondered if it was like this for Winona, too. About that time, he was coming up on the salvage yard and drove into the entrance where he soon spied Constable Bob.

"Well, you ol' son-of-a-bitch," Bob exclaimed upon seeing his old pal exiting his car and toting a baby carrier with a baby inside. "You weren't kiddin' about havin' a baby with you. Unless you borrowed this one to save face with me."

"First of all, watch your language in front of my kid," Raylan said, pointing a finger and then extending his hand for their customary handshake. "And second of all, this is my daughter, Willa."

"She's cute," Bob smiled. "She looks nothin' like you."

"Thank God," Raylan chuckled. "Now, where's my box you're holdin' ransom?"

Bob opened the hatchback of his little old piece of shit, reached inside, and pulled out the box. Seeing Raylan's hands were full, he asked, "You want me to put this in the trunk of your car?"

"Sure," Raylan nodded and opened the trunk of the Lincoln with a click of his key fob.

As they walked towards Raylan's car, Bob offered, "I apologize for havin' you come out here with the baby."

"Yeah, her mama ain't gonna be too happy with me if she finds out I'm here," he explained. "With all the criminal activity that goes on in Harlan and the fact that I got shot here not so long ago, it's not one of her favorite places."

Bob carefully placed the box inside the trunk and then closed it. "Speakin' of criminal activity, this mornin' I heard that your buddy Boyd Crowder is behind bringin' in a heroin shipment into Harlan. Word is he's tight on cash and needs to get his little filly sprung from prison. You know … pay for lawyers and such."

"Ya' mean, Ava?" Raylan squinted as the sunlight directly hit his face. "What does he need to hire a lawyer for? She's most likely guilty as sin, and this isn't her first shootin' that left a man dead."

"Yes. Ava," Bob nodded. "And supposedly that shipment will arrive within the week. That falls under the Marshal's purview, and I thought you'd wanna know."

"Is he at his bar?" Raylan switched hands as Willa's carrier suddenly became noticeably heavy.

Again, Bob nodded. "Word is, that's where he can be found." Bob huffed a breath. "Then there's this guy who's been hangin' around the bar. City slicker type, always has some muscle with him."

Raylan got the picture. "This guy, is he blond, kinda weasely-lookin'?"

"Yeah," Bob nodded his head eagerly. "That sounds like him."

"Wynn Duffy" Raylan sighed. Boyd in cahoots with Duffy. This should be interesting. "Alright. Thanks for the intel." Raylan opened the rear passenger door of his Lincoln and leaned in to snap Willa into her car seat base.

"Are you headin' over to talk to Boyd?" Bob was suddenly curious and prided himself whenever he could be in the know.

Raylan stepped out and closed the door, heading for his side of the car. "Not with her," he answered, referring to the baby. "We'll take care of it, though. Thanks, Bob!"

Bob pulled himself to his full height. "Anytime, Raylan. Anytime."

As Raylan backed up the car to leave, the thought crossed his mind that if Willa wasn't with him, he'd be headed out to talk to Boyd that very second. This baby was definitely cramping his style.

"Now, what am I gonna do?" He spoke to his baby in the backseat. "I can't take you into a bar, especially not a bar in Harlan. I could call Art, but he's outta town. Maybe I should try Uncle Tim. He could come out here with Rachel and talk to Boyd."

Raylan pulled out his cell and called the younger marshal.

"Raylan, I hope you're not callin' to back out of our _arrangement_," Tim said. "The way the day is stacking up, I'm going to need some stress-relief."

"Sorry 'bout your day Tim, but I need you and Rachel to come to Harlan and speak with Boyd Crowder. Word has it that he's behind a heroin shipment into Harlan. He's short on cash and needs to hire a fancy lawyer to get Ava released." He paused. "And it looks like he's associatin' with _another_ friend of ours."

"Who's that?"

"Wynn Duffy."

"How do you know all this?"

"From Constable Bob Sweeney," Raylan answered. "I ran into him because he's been holdin' some of our family belongin's for me."

"Raylan?" Tim asked in disbelief, "Are you in Harlan?"

Raylan could hear Rachel in the background saying, "He took that sweet angel to Harlan?!"

"Shit!" Raylan exclaimed, realizing that now, not only did Bob and Tim know he went to Harlan with Willa … Rachel did, too.

Tim responded by saying, "Wow. You actually brought your baby girl with you into Harlan County?"

Raylan stammered. "Uh, well, uh. No."

"Liar." Tim laughed. "Winona's gonna kill you."

Raylan could hear Rachel. "I know Art left me in charge, but I can't be in charge of stupid. Right now Raylan is acting like one of the stupidest fathers I've ever encountered."

"Tell Rachel I can hear her," Raylan said sternly. Then, he sighed. "Tim, wouldja explain to her that Bob enticed me down here with the threat of destroyin' my family's photos and the family Bible he's been holdin' out of Arlo's house?"

"Since when is family so important? You hated Arlo."

"Oh, I don't know why. All of a sudden I kinda got sentimental about the stuff; I 'spose on account of me havin' Willa here. I had no way of knowin' Bob was gonna bring up the Boyd stuff, necessitatin' getting the Marshal Service involved."

In a random thought, Tim said, "You know, your friend Constable Bob kinda looks like a Hobbit."

Raylan explained, "Bob is one of those guys who is more of a friend of mine that I am of his … _especially_ after today. The little shit would've destroyed my stuff if I didn't go pick it up."

Tim countered. "You need to find you some new friends.

"Do ya' think?"

Raylan could hear Tim and Rachel discussing what to do about the situation in Art's absence. Rachel still sounded pissed at him. Reluctantly, the two agreed to drive out together and talk to Boyd … not for Raylan, but for Willa. Together, they made Raylan promise to get the hell out of Harlan with the baby and back to the safety of the hotel, pronto.

Left with little choice, Raylan agreed. After he ended the call, he put his foot on the gas pedal and pushed the Lincoln ten to fifteen miles over the speed limit. The car's big motor roared as he accelerated, and Willa began to scream.

"Hey now. What's wrong there, little one?" he asked, nervously glancing back in the rear view.

He slowed, reaching back with his long arm and grabbing the edge of the infant carrier, rocking it to calm her. She was having none of it.

"Shit," he muttered, looking at the road ahead for a place to pull over. There was hardly any berm on the narrow twisting road, but the familiar side road to the left caught his eye and he slowed further into the turn. With Willa still wailing, he drove about a quarter mile before pulling into the driveway of Arlo's old house. The _For Sale _sign had been toppled over and Raylan straightened it before opening the passenger door and releasing Willa from the car seat.

"Hey there, Little Miss." He held her to his shoulder, patting her back and pacing in the gravel. Now that she was in closer proximity, he could smell the problem. He sighed. "Guess we'd better get this taken care of," he said.

The day was warm and sunny, so he carefully changed her diaper on a blanket spread on the hood of the car, cleaned her up, and lifted her up back to his shoulder. After looking around for someplace to put the stinking dirty diaper, he grinned at Willa. "Thanks for givin' me such an appropriate present for your '_Grandpa'," _he said to his daughter. Crossing over to the row of headstones, he placed the offensive item square on top of Arlo's. He turned to walk away, then stopped, stooping to brush the dust from his mother's stone, then Helen's with his free hand.

"I hope she's got some of your fire," he said, remembering his aunt's tough spirit. "And some of your sensibilities," he was referring to his mama. "As for you, asshole," he narrowed his eyes and glared at Arlo's headstone adorned by the diaper. Raylan paused, but nothing came to him because he felt nothing but distain for his father.

He turned on his heel and muttered, "Shit," under his breath.

Ready to leave this place, he walked at a fast clip back to the car, and Willa held on tight to his shirt. Feeling his daughter become clingy, Raylan wrapped his long arms around her and held her close, protectively. "Sorry about that last part, honey. I am tryin' hard to do better by you. I've come a long way considerin' where I came from."

"I'm glad you'll never even meet the man,"he added, under his breath.

As he clicked open the locks and climbed into the backset to strap Willa into her car seat, he continued with his earlier thought. "I'll make you a deal. If you promise to be patient with me, I promise I'll always be patient with you."

And for the first time since those dream-like hours in the maternity ward right after she was born, Raylan kissed his baby on the top of her head.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The ride back to the hotel was long, and despite buying himself a very caffeinated 'Java Jolt' from a local drive-through, Raylan could barely keep his eyes open. Finally, he pulled off the hotel exit in Lexington. Willa had been very quiet for the past fifteen minutes. He glanced at the clock near the dashboard. _2:20_ _p.m._ It was her naptime, just like clockwork. He hoped he would be able to sneak her into their room without waking her and grab a little nap for himself before his big to do with Tim and Mandi. And Randi.

Very quietly, he unhooked the latch to Willa's seat and pulled her carrier out of the car, along with her monkey and pacifier that had long fallen out of her mouth. He couldn't help but notice what a pretty little thing she was. Her lashes were dark and long, much longer than his or Winona's. And she had the prettiest little mouth. She'd lost most of the dark hair she was born with, and the new fuzz coming in was a lighter shade, closer to Winona's. She was going to be a looker, just like her mama. God help him.

They made it up to the room without even a peep from Willa. Very carefully, Raylan opened the straps from her seat, picked her up, and gently lay her on her back in the crib. She was out. Then, he adjusted the blinds so that the room remained a little on the dark side. He walked over and locked the room door and placed his hat, gun, and holster on the nightstand. Reaching over, he set the alarm clock for 6 p.m. and lay down on the bed. He didn't even bother to take his boots off. Either Willa or the alarm would wake him up soon. How he hoped it would be the alarm.

It was the phone that woke him. "Where the hell are you?" Tim's irritated voice came over the line. "I'm down here in the bar waitin' for the girls by myself like some kind of loser."

Raylan ran a hand through his hair as he sat up. "Wha...? What time is it?"

"Almost 7. Were you asleep?"

"Yeah, I..." Raylan started, then, remembering the baby, he panicked. "Hold on a sec," he told Tim. He rushed over to the port-a-crib. Willa stared up at him and grinned, holding her arms up to him.

"What a good girl," he said. "You had a nice long nap." She must have been as tired as he was. He reached down and lifted her up, then picked up the phone. "I'll be down as soon as I change her and give her a bottle."

"How long will that take?" Tim complained.

"Not long. Besides, I don't think a screaming baby will be much of a chick magnet."

"You're probably right." Tim sighed. It was a nervous sigh.

"Buck up, buttercup," Raylan said to Tim, smiling at Willa. Her smile was infectious.

He decided to throw his wing man a bone. "While you're waitin' for us, try doin' what I do. Act like you don't give a shit about anything. For some reason, the ladies go for that. The more disinterested you are, the more interested they become. For the life of me, I've never been able to figure that one out."

"Easy for you," Tim said. "You _don't_ give a shit about anything."

"Give me 15 more minutes get Willa changed and fed and to splash some water on face, run a comb through my hair, and brush my teeth. The quicker I get off this phone, the faster we'll be there. 'kay?"

"Yeah, hurry up," Tim grumbled, disconnecting the call.

With Willa in his arms, Raylan went to the bathroom and turned on the faucet with his free hand. When it was just the right temperature, he threw a wash cloth under the running water and squeezed out the excess. He gently wiped the sleep from Willa's eyes and took her over to the bed, grabbing a diaper and the package of wipes on the way.

"You're not gonna grow up to be one of those women who falls for daddy's tricks, are ya'?" he said as he began changing a wet one. "No, you're smart like your mama and won't fall for any of the tricks from any of the men."

Then, he glanced away. "Except for Gary. I still can't understand what she saw in him, even though she once tried to explain it to me. She said it had somethin' to do with him wantin' things, but look where that got him."

Diaper changed, he placed Willa in the carrier, strapped her in, and handed her a favorite rattle. He moved her over to the table near the kitchenette, and she watched him as warmed her a bottle. It had been less than two days, and Raylan had the bottle feeding down. Before feeding her, he pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it over on the bed, and threw a burp towel over his shoulder. When the bottle was ready, he released Willa from the straps.

He picked her up and cradled her in the crook of his elbow. Her big blue eyes locked with his as she sucked on the nipple.

"You care," he said. "I can see it in your eyes. It's a good thing." After a beat he added, "I care, too. Just don't always show it. Somehow, I sense you already know that about me. I don't need to put on any airs with you."

Willa blinked and blinked, her chubby little cheeks working the bottle. After she got her fill, she stopped sucking and said, "Da-da-da-da," and grabbed for her daddy's nose. Unlike the time she grabbed his ear, this time, it didn't hurt. She just wanted to touch.

Raylan took the burp cloth and caught the dribbling milk down her chin. Then, back over his shoulder the cloth went, followed by Willa. He began rhythmically patting her back as she held her head up.

"I know you've got a good one in there," Raylan said. A few moments later, Willa complied.

"Bet ya' feel better after that," he nodded to her and placed her back in her carrier and brought her into the bathroom with him, placing her upon the bathroom counter.

"You can keep me company while I clean up a little," he explained while turning on the water to wash his own face. "Truth be told, we're not really goin' there tonight so that I can meet women. I'm doin' a favor for Uncle Tim. I mean, the man said he'd take a bullet for you," he explained to his baby, using his hands. "In today's times, now that's a rarity. We don't have to stay there long. In fact, you can be our excuse to leave early if need be."

After Raylan brushed his teeth, combed his hair and changed into a clean shirt, he grabbed the diaper bag, his gun, and his key card.

"Ya' ready?" he asked his happy girl. "Let's go lend your Uncle Tim a helpin' hand."

_(To be continued)_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

_A bar, umbrella drinks, and Elton John_

The hotel bar was nearly empty, save for Tim, the lone waitress, a guy setting up a sound system in the corner, and three grandmotherly women at a table covered with the colorful pamphlets put out by the Kentucky Board of Tourism. Tim was nursing a beer and the women were sipping on frothy drinks with tiny paper umbrellas sticking out of them. There was no sign of Mandi and Randi.

"I think we've been stood up," Tim lamented.

Raylan took a quick peek at his watch as he sat down, shifting Willa to his lap. "It's only a tad past seven."

He raised a finger at the waitress and ordered a beer. Holding Willa close with one arm, he wrapped the other hand around the beer. "Just start us a tab," he told the waitress. He reached into the diaper bag he'd shoved under the table and pulled out the stuffed monkey.

"Gah!" Willa's face lit up. "Ma-ma-ma-ma," she chortled.

A grin slid across Tim's mouth. "Is she callin' Winona a monkey?"

"Nah," Raylan bragged. "She's just smart enough to know that 'mama' and 'monkey' start with the same sound, aren't you?"

"Ma-ma-ma," Willa repeated, gumming the monkey's ear.

"Must get her brains from her mama," Tim observed.

The clack of heels on tile made them both turn toward the door. "Sorry we're late." Mandi rushed over, followed by Randi. The younger girl was an inch or so taller and more buxom than her sister. She had chin length auburn hair that fell in waves around her face, and the same green eyes as Mandi. Both girls wore incredibly short skirts and high heels. Mandi's blouse was sheer enough that the lace of her bra was clearly visible, and Randi's V-neck displayed her assets, leaving very little to the imagination. Tim smiled his appreciation.

"Randi, these are the marshals I told you about...Raylan..." she lay her hand on his shoulder, staking out her territory. "And Tim. This is my sister, Randi."

"Nice to meet you," they said. There were quick handshakes all around and Tim stood, pulling chairs out for the ladies.

"And this is Raylan's daughter, Willa. He's watchin' her so his ex can have a spa weekend. Isn't that nice?" Mandi gushed.

With Mandi's attention on her sister, Tim caught Raylan's eye and made a gagging motion.

"She's a sweet little thing," Randi said, waving her fingers at Willa. "Hi there, baby," she said. Her bright red fingernail polish caught Willa's eye and she leaned forward, reaching out.

"Hey now," Raylan said, tightening his grip.

"Here," Mandi said, holding out her arms. "Let me hold her for a minute while you boys get us something to drink." Not waiting for Raylan to answer or hand the baby over, she tugged her from his lap. He had to fight a sudden impulse to grab his daughter back and flee the bar.

"Little tense there?" Tim asked as they walked toward the bar. Raylan glanced over his shoulder, keeping an eye on Willa. The baby seemed happy enough, sitting in Mandi's lap, and he relaxed a little.

Tim followed his gaze. "Don't worry, she knows more about babies than you do. She's probably been babysitting since she was twelve."

He knew Tim was right, but Raylan still kept one eye on Willa as he ordered Mandi's margarita. Loaded down with that, two more beers, and Randi's strawberry daiquiri, they made their way back to the table. Willa was smiling as Mandi was bouncing her on her knees.

"She really likes this," Mandi said. She looked down, making eye contact with that baby. "Don'tcha?"

"That might not be such a good idea," Raylan said. "I just fed her before we came down."

Right on cue, Willa gave an '_urp_' and spit up all over herself.

"Oh, no!" Mandi cried. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make her sick."

"She's not sick," Raylan said. "It's just a little spit up. But it'll stink. I'm gonna have to change her." He stood and reached out for the baby, careful to keep her facing forward so he wouldn't have to change as well. This was his last clean shirt. "I'll be right back."

Mandi rose, too. "I'll help," she offered. "Since it's my fault."

He grabbed the diaper bag and threw it over his free shoulder and then, he grabbed the carrier.

"Are you leaving?" Tim asked, only concerned about his potential action.

Raylan flashed a stern look at his cohort. "I'm not changin' her in the Men's Room of a bar. I'm goin' up to the room. I'll be back as soon as I can. I think you can handle the girls for a few minutes."

As he started towards the Lobby, he glanced over at Mandi who was right behind him. "You really don't need to come up. I can handle this by myself."

"Oh, I'm sure you can," Mandi cooed. "I just thought maybe me and you could get to know one another a little better."

Raylan, stepping up his pace towards the elevator, shook his head. "Don'tcha think my baby might cramp your style?"

"Oh, no," she said, running as her heels clicked in an echo across the tiled floor. "My ex had kids. There are ways around them."

As Raylan hit the call button for the elevator, he just looked at her. "Huh?"

The doors opened and, with his hands full, he walked into the car and extended a long index finger to push the button for the third floor. Mandi scurried in behind him before the doors closed. Raylan hit the 'Door Open' button.

"Look, Mandi," Raylan sighed. "I'll be back down before you know it. It'd really go a lot faster if I just go up to the room on my own and change her clothes."

"Do you have someone stayin' with you in your room?" Mandi's tone suddenly changed to one somewhere between suspicion and anger.

"No," Raylan shook his head, his tone sincere. "There's no one stayin' here but me and little Willa."

"Well good." Her mood instantly switched again, and she bounded up and down on her spiked heels with the energy of a six-year-old.

Releasing the button that held the doors open, Raylan let out another long sigh. "Fine. You can come up. But we're comin' right back down to continue our evenin'. Understood?"

"Anything you say," she was back to cooing at him.

Raylan couldn't tell who was more mature, Mandi or little Willa. He'd put his money on the baby.

When they reached his floor, Mandi continued to follow him like a little foo-foo lap dog. Struggling to balance his load while searching his pocket for the card key, he was amazed to realize that in all the time since they left the bar, Mandi had not once offered to take something, anything, from him to lighten his load. This time was no different.

Finally, he found the card and swiped it, opening the door. Once inside, he promptly dropped everything except for Willa on the floor.

Mandi giggled. Raylan flashed her a stern look, not amused.

"Let's get you outta this," Raylan concentrated on the only important lady in the room.

He grabbed the wipes and a clean diaper from the kitchen, laid Willa on the bed, and took her out of her little dress. Willa looked as if she was feeling a whole lot better since her daddy put a halt to her impromptu bouncing horsey ride. Raylan proceeded to wipe the spit up milk from her face and neck with a wipe and tossed the tiny dress covered in 'urp' on the bathroom floor. He did a quick diaper check. She was still dry.

"Nice shot," Mandi clapped her hands.

_Why does she remind me of a high school cheerleader?_ Raylan thought to himself.

"I loved the high school pep rallies," Mandi tried to make conversation.

"So, _you were_ a cheerleader," he mumbled somewhat amused with himself, as he struggled with the tiny snaps on a set of Willa's clean, footed pajamas.

"Oh, no. I was tall flags. I marched with the state championship Lafayette High School Generals Marching Band," she stated very proudly.

"Oh," Raylan casually nodded. "Highlight of your time in school, was it?" After a beat, concerned, he asked, "How long have ya' been outta high school?"

Taking a seat on the bed, she answered, "I graduated in 2009."

"And your sister?" he asked, now suddenly concerned for Tim.

"Oh, she graduated two years after me, though it was a walk through," she admitted. "She still has to make up a remedial credit, but she hasn't done it yet. Don't tell her I told you because it embarrasses her."

Raylan nodded. "I won't say a word."

About that time his cell rang. It was Art.

"Hey," Raylan was relieved for the interruption, holding a freshly-dressed Willa close in his other arm. "How's the meetin' goin'?"

"Slow go as always," Art sighed. "Saw you tried to call me several times. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Raylan nodded. "Everything's fine. Whatever it was, I figured it out." He tucked the phone under his chin and lifted a clean and happy Willa to his shoulder.

"Good, because Winona has been checking in with me, so I'm checking in with you," he explained.

"How's she doin'?" Raylan asked.

"She was a little new-mama-nervous about you and Willa, but I told her you were doin' fine. Other than that, she sounded relaxed, a lot more than when she left," he answered. After a beat, he asked, "Have you seen Tim?"

"Yeah," Raylan answered. "He's meetin' me here at the hotel," he stalled for a little time.

"Out trolling for girls?" Art chuckled, knowing Tim.

"He is. You know it," Raylan chuckled back.

"Well, tell him to keep any girls he may meet out of the mansion, okay?" Art became serious.

Raylan offered, "You don't need to worry about that. Rachel has that all under control."

As he talked, Mandi got bored and wandered around the room, picking up Willa's things and setting them back down. After a few minutes, she flopped back on the bed with a sigh and pulled out her phone, rapidly texting.

"Don't tell Tim this part, but Rachel called me. She had to leave tonight," Art said. "Her mother's suddenly not feeling well, and Rachel was worried. That's why I'm checking in on Tim."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear about her mother," Raylan said. "I'll see Tim in the next ten minutes. I could catch him up for you."

"Good, because I'm beat," Art sighed. "I figure what he doesn't know about Rachel, he won't take advantage of. Anyways, my arthritis is kicking up from sitting all day. I 'm gonna take a quick, hot shower and head straight to bed."

"Sounds good," Raylan said. "Talk to you later."

And he disconnected the call. By now, Willa's head was lolling against his shoulder. If it wasn't for his promise to Tim, he'd just send Mandi back down alone and find a ball game on TV.

"Who was that?" Mandi asked, not looking up from her phone. "Your ex?"

"No, it was not," Raylan said, thinking, _Not that it's any of your business. _"Come on, let's go back down to the bar."

"We could just party here," Mandi said, patting the bed beside her. "It looks like she's gonna take a little nap." She smiled, invitingly.

He quickly squelched the part of his brain considering her offer. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

His cell phone buzzed with a text and he glanced at it, saw it was from Tim, and ignored it. He turned away, stooping to pick Willa's soiled dress off the floor and toss it into the bathroom sink. With Will still in his arms, he ran the water and squirted some of the liquid hand soap in. That would take care of the smell, at least.

"You sure I can't change your mind?"

"No, I told Tim..." he began, rinsing the dress, squeezing out the excess water and hanging it on the towel bar. He was becoming good at doing things with one hand. Turning back to Mandi he sucked in a breath. "Shit!" He clutched Willa closer to his chest.

Mandi, naked except for her heels and dangling silver earrings, perched on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. She pouted at him. "Well, that's just what a girl wants to hear," she giggled. "Don'tcha like whatcha see?"

Raylan covered Willa's eyes with one hand, though her eyes were closed. He knew if they'd been open she wouldn't have known or recalled what she saw. "Put your clothes on," he said, trying not to stare. Mandi was very attractive, and he shifted his weight hoping she wouldn't notice his unintentional physical response.

"Oh, come on," she teased, running her tongue over her bottom lip. "Let's have some fun. I bet I can make you happy." She swung her foot, pointing her toe and giving him an interesting view.

"I bet you could," Raylan assured her. He scooped up her blouse and skirt from the floor. "But, I really think we oughta get back downstairs."

A knock sounded at the door and Willa started, her face puckering. Raylan tossed the clothing at Mandi. "That's probably Tim," he snapped. "Bathroom. Now."

Mandi clutched the clothes to her chest and flounced by him, her lower lip sticking out like a petulant teenager. "Fine. But you're the one who's missing out. I give great blow jobs."

Another knock and Willa began to whimper. Raylan glanced down. Spying Mandi's lacey panties, he kicked them under the bed and reached for the doorknob.

"What the hell are you doin' up here?" Tim hissed when Raylan opened the door. He glanced over Raylan's shoulder, spied the rumpled bedspread and gave the other marshal a withering look. "Really? In front of your daughter?"

"What?!" Raylan sounded appalled, keeping his voice down low. "We didn't do anything!" He ran his hand over the baby's back, comforting her, hoping she'd fall back asleep.

Tim stepped around him, stooped to the floor and gingerly picked up Mandi's discarded underwear. "Sure," Tim said, shaking his head. "You keep tellin' yourself that. While you're up here gettin' your rocks off, I'm down in the bar and Randi's tryin' to get me to sing karaoke with her."

Raylan almost chuckled at that, then he saw the panties dangling from Tim's fingers. "Gimme those." He grabbed them, opened the door to the bathroom and tossed them in. "Look," he said to Tim. "I was cleanin' up Miss Willa here and when I turned around, Mandi was stark naked. I turned her down and when you knocked, I sent her into the bathroom to get dressed."

Tim stepped away from Raylan and looked him up and down. "Well, I guess you don't look like you just got dressed in a hurry," he admitted. "But you've probably had lots of practice."

Raylan insisted, "I'm tellin' the truth."

"Okay, okay." Tim raised both hands in mock surrender. "You comin' back down? I could really use the support."

"What was she tryin' to get you to sing?" Raylan allowed himself that chuckle now that he was off the hook.

"_Don't Go Breakin' My Heart_."

"Really?" Raylan didn't even try to fight the grin that came over his face. "Elton John?"

"Correction. That would be Elton John and Kiki Dee," Tim explained.

Raylan couldn't resist. "Did she want ya' to sing the Kiki Dee part?"

"Of course not." Tim stood a little taller. "She wanted me to sing Elton's part, though I prefer _Crockodile Rock_."

They waited for Mandi to emerge from the restroom. Passing the minutes, Raylan commented, "Randi seems a little young to be a fan of Elton. She is _not_ jail bait, by the way. I found out from her sister. I was lookin' out for you."

"Yeah." Tim nodded with a knowing grin. "Turns out Randi is a huge 70's retro fan. Who knew?"

_(To be continued . . . )_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

_Trouble_

The hotel bar was a bit more crowded when they came down from the room. Mandi was still pouting, and Raylan ignored her, scanning the room in his usual lawman way. He estimated twenty or so people were sitting at the tables, and another ten or twelve sitting or standing around the bar.

A young man –younger than Raylan anyway – was belting out an unfamiliar ballad from the karaoke stage in the corner.

"_She's so beautiful. And I tell her every day_," he crooned.

Randi sat at the table, chin in her hand, staring at the stage with a look of adoration.

"That's what's wrong with relationships," Tim hissed in Raylan's ear. "Women listen to the lyrics of these sappy songs and expect to be treated that way all the time."

"Yeah, well, real life ain't like that," Raylan agreed. "But it never hurts to tell 'em they're beautiful." The word conjured up images of Winona, and he held Willa a little closer.

That performance was followed in quick succession by a young woman singing a jazzed up version of Adele's _Rolling in the Deep_, two drunk middle aged guys stumbling through Journey's _Don't Stop Believin'_, and a dead on Kenny Chesney impression on Winona's favorite, _You Save Me_.

Willa slept through it all.

Tim kept the girls' drinks coming and pounded down beers while Raylan nursed his double bourbon and kept an eye on Willa, sleeping in the crook of his arm. He could have put her in the carrier seat. She was heavy with sleep and probably wouldn't wake up, but he held her anyway, partially to keep Mandi at arm's length, but mostly because he liked the feeling, liked knowing she was right there and safe.

"Let's sing something," Randi suggested.

Mandi, clearly bored, cast a withering look at Raylan, drank two-thirds of her fourth margarita in one swallow, and smiled at her sister. "Yeah, let's."

The two of them sashayed up to the DJ, flirting as they flipped the pages in the selection book. Randi finally tapped her finger on one plastic covered sheet. "This one." They launched into a slightly off-key rendition of Taylor Swift's _Trouble_, pointing their fingers at Tim and Raylan on the chorus "_I knew you were trouble when you walked in_..."

Tim returned the teasing with a smirk and pulled Randi onto his lap when they returned to the table, kissing her soundly before releasing her.

Mandi sat down and finished her drink. "I'm goin' to the ladies room," she said setting her glass down too hard on the table. Randi followed her without a word.

"Man, you are crampin' my style," Tim complained.

"Hey, I got you hooked up with randy Randi there," he defended himself. "I think you can take it from here. I need to get this little one up to bed." He was referring to Willa.

"No, man, you can't leave," Tim almost whined.

"If you can't close _that deal_," Raylan raised his eyebrows, referring to Randi, "I don't know what to say. She's all over you."

"Yeah but she's never gonna go with me unless she knows her sister is okay," Tim spelled it out. "And Mandi has had her eyes set on you since breakfast this morning."

Raylan let out a long, disinterested sigh, already over his brief flirtation with the waitress. "Against my better judgment, I'm supposed to let you know that Rachel had a family emergency and is no longer on assignment at the Monroe mansion. But what I'm _not _supposed to do is to encourage you to allow civilians in there. It could get ya' in deep shit with Art."

"Rachel's not there?" It was all Tim could hear. "Was anyone else assigned?"

"That would be a correct and a no," Raylan said, deciding to let the chips fall where they may. Tim was a big boy. "Not to be encouragin' anything, but I did hear Mandi express an interest in seein' it this morning.' You could take 'em bowlin.'"

"But you're comin' too, right?" Tim was pleading.

"I told ya' I need to get my ass upstairs and get this little one to bed," he insisted. "And randy Randi's equally randy sister is _not_ comin' up to my room with me this time."

Soon, the giggling sisters returned, and Tim tried to entice the two to join him at his fortunate bachelor pad.

"Does it really have its own bowling alley?" Randi squealed with delight.

"Jeez," Raylan swore under his breath. "Could y'all keep the volume down?" He nodded his head at the sleeping baby.

"Yeah, and there's a pool and a hot tub, too," Tim went on, ignoring Raylan.

"Raylan, do you bowl?" Mandi asked, running her fingers through his hair, her breath smelling of tequila.

It was at that moment that Raylan, anticipating his exit, glanced at the door, and spied Alison. She saw him, too, and walked toward them purposefully. _Shit. _He quickly deflected Mandi's hand with his arm and stood up with Willa still sleeping in his arms.

"Excuse me, but I gotta go," he said.

"Uh-oh," Tim said, sensing an incoming confrontation.

Mandi, standing with her hands on her hips, asked Tim. "Is that his ex?"

"Nope," Tim answered, taking another swig of his beer. "That's his current."

Before Raylan could take a step to leave, Alison arrived at their table.

"What are you doin' here?" He asked as Alison walked up. "I mean without callin' first?"

Adjusting her handbag under her arm, she answered, "I was going to surprise you."

"Well then, mission accomplished," he said. Trying for casual, he leaned in to kiss her, but she ducked away.

"What are you doing, drinking and partying in a hotel bar with your baby?" she asked with disappointment in her eyes. "Do you think this is a proper place for her to be?"

"We're not breaking any laws," Mandi wagged her finger in front of Alison's face.

"Mandi," Raylan looked at the off-duty waitress in the eye and said firmly. "This does not concern you."

"You're seriously not gonna play social worker with me now, are ya'?" Raylan asked Alison, returning fire with fire. "Look at her," his eyes shifted to the baby. "She's fine. She's sleepin'. She doesn't have any idea where she is."

Alison defensively crossed her arms in front of her. "I came by because I kinda felt bad for not returning your call last night. I wanted to see if maybe you could use a hand. I was on my way up to your room and, imagine my surprise to find you and the baby in here. Obviously, you've got plenty of hands to help you." She looked the two women up and down as if they were the skankiest two she had ever seen.

"That's not true," Raylan kept his voice down so as not to wake Willa. "They're no help 'cause they're all drunk."

"All drunk but you?" she leaned back on her heel, arms still crossed. "You expect me believe that?"

"And this is comin' from the social worker who smokes reefer in front of a U.S. Marshal," Raylan countered, in rare form.

Tim sniggered.

Furious and embarrassed that Raylan would say such a thing in front of his fellow marshal, Alison flushed red in the face and just as quickly turned on her heel to leave.

"Wait," Raylan called out, sorry he had gone too far with that last remark. Leaving the carrier seat and the diaper bag behind but still holding on to Willa, he started after her. "Alison, come on."

Almost out into the lobby, she whirled around to face him. "I wonder if you do it on purpose," she said. "Or if you just can't help yourself."

"Do what? Alison..."

Watching the exchange Raylan and Alison, with all its hand gestures and body language, Tim finally got the message loud and clear that his pal was done for the night. "Ladies, I think it would be in our best interest to move our party over to the mansion. What do you say?"

"Your friend Raylan turned out to be a real ass," Mandi complained.

"He can be that," Tim agreed. "I guess his life is … complicated."

Raylan followed Alison further into the lobby, but all he saw was the flash of her navy blue coat out the front door of the hotel. He dropped his eyes when they locked with Winona's. The look on his face turned to one of utter shock and dismay.

Winona just witnessed Raylan, clutching their baby as he came out of the lounge chasing a blonde.

"You took Willa into _a bar_? Really, Raylan?" Her mouth pressed into a thin line and she held out her arms for Willa. "Just give her here. I'll take her off your hands."

"It's not like that," he sighed, the weight of being chewed out by Alison quickly replaced by the embarrassment of being caught by his baby mama. "And besides, this _is_ Kentucky." He tried a joke, but it fell flat.

Winona shook her head and in all seriousness, held her arms out again to take her sleeping baby girl. Raylan reluctantly complied. "I'll go get her carrier seat," he said and returned to the bar.

Upon seeing his sidekick return, Tim said, "Hey, Raylan, I think I'm gonna take these two lovely ladies to the mansion." Marshal Gutterson was clearly drunk and had a big smile on his face. "You wanna come with us?"

Grabbing the diaper bag and the carrier, Raylan snarled. "I don't give a shit what any of you do." Then, he turned back to the other marshal. "Just take a goddamn taxi, okay?"

Tim and the girls were left with a _'What the fuck?'_ look on their faces, as Raylan quickly exited the bar.

Standing near the front desk, carefully examining her sleeping baby without waking her, Winona looked up at Raylan when he returned to the lobby. "Well, she doesn't appear to be any worse for the wear."

"Of course not," Raylan screwed up his face. "What did'ya think would happen? And what are you doin' back early? Did'ya think you'd catch me doin' somethin' I shouldn't be doin'?"

_It's a good thing she didn't come back earlier today_, he thought to himself.

"Gayle's son got sick, so we had to leave the spa early," she explained. "And I'm glad I did because I come here to find you in a _bar_ ... with _our _baby."

"Look, I know this looks bad, but I was in there to support Tim," he explained. "He's been kinda lonely, lately."

Winona craned her neck to see Tim inside the bar with two young ladies. She gave him an awkward little wave. Tim waved back, and the two girls gaped.

"And it looks like you are, too," she said with a little smile, referring to the quickly exiting blonde. "Don't tell me you ran another one off," she needled.

"Yeah, but one didn't have anything to do with the other," he tried to clarify.

He took a beat to change his tone to one of sincerity. "Look, I was really enjoyin' my time with Willa. Do ya' have to take her early?"

"I don't know," she looked up at him. Winona couldn't help but notice that Willa smelled good and didn't appear to be wet, meaning Raylan had bathed, changed, and fed her.

"Why don't you come up to my room, and we'll talk about it?" he suggested.

"I was going to see if they had another room."

"There's no need to do that," he said, thinking fast. "The room we're in has two double beds and I got a port-a-crib for Willa. You can stay with us. It might be nice for Willa to have both of us around.

Winona cocked her head, studying him for a moment. "Okay," she said. "That might be nice."

"Did'ya have dinner?" Raylan asked as they walked to the elevators. "Willa and I were nappin' before Tim showed up and I fed her, but I never ate. I'm kinda hungry."

Winona shifted Willa to her other arm and leaned against the wall while they waited. "I could eat."

"Pizza?"

"Sure. Sausage and onion? No mushrooms." She made a face.

"Half mushroom."

"Alright."

He smiled at the familiar conversation. "I wonder how she's gonna weigh in?"

"She's the swing vote," Winona agreed. "But it'll be awhile before she's eating pizza."

He pulled out his cell and punched in the number for the pizza place they used at the office. After giving them the order and the room number at the hotel, he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

The elevator arrived and they got in. Raylan watched Winona out of the corner of his eye as he pushed the button for his floor. Her eyes were closed as she bent her head and softly kissed Willa's forehead.

"Mama missed you so much," she whispered.

He stood there, leaning against the corner of the elevator car, taking in the sight of Winona and his child. After a full day of fatherhood and a trip to Harlan and back, he was bone tired.

"Is that really why you came back early?" he spoke low with a smile. "'cause you missed her?"

Snuggling tight with a sleeping Willa, she confessed, "I'm afraid you got me, Cowboy."

"I must admit she can cast a spell on you," he took off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. "She sure has on me."

"Good," Winona nodded. "I was wondering how long it would take."

"You know I'm not that comfortable around babies, kids," he said. "But this little one … she's different."

"She's yours," Winona pointed out the obvious as they reached the right floor.

Raylan shot Winona a look as she followed him to his room. "I've never questioned Willa's paternity."

He dug in his pocket for the card key and when they reached his room, he slid it through, opened the door, and flipped on the light switch. The room, in total disarray, distracted Winona for a split second.

"That's not what I meant," she explained, taking a seat on the corner of the bed that was still made. "What I meant is that when a baby is your own, it's different than with all the other babies and kids you've known."

"Sorry," he said, unloading his pockets on the nightstand and quickly trying to pick the place up a little. "Guess I sound a little defensive."

"Raylan," she said softly. "I know you know you're her father. We were both there. Remember? There's never been any question. Besides," she pointed out. "She has your nose."

His forehead wrinkled as he peered down at the baby. "You think so? I think she looks just like you."

"She has my eyes," Winona said. "And her hair looks like it might be lighter, but that nose is all you ... and look at those long fingers." She held up a tiny hand. "She's both of us. The best of both of us." She looked up at him. "We made her, Raylan, and she's a little miracle."

He met her gaze. "We can agree on that."

Building on that moment of agreement, as he tugged on the linens of his bed to smooth it out, he offered, "The past couple of days has made me realize how much work you do to take care of Willa. It's exhaustin'!"

"It is," she said as she gently laid Willa on the bed beside her, on her back. "But she is the smartest thing I've ever done and the most rewarding. She makes my life make sense. I can't explain it. It might sound silly, but I'm honored to be her mother."

Raylan gave Winona a wistful smile. "She _is_ somethin' special. That's another thing we can agree on."

"Now," Winona said as she stretched out on her side, next to her baby. "What's the scoop on the blonde?"

"Her name is Alison, and she's Loretta McCready's social worker," he answered her, honestly. "I met her when Loretta got herself into trouble … again … and called for me to help her out."

"You've always had a soft spot for that kid," Winona laid her head on her outstretched arm.

"Not so much anymore." Raylan screwed up his face as he took a seat on the bed across from her. "Loretta seems to have taken after Mags Bennett in wantin' to get into the weed business in a big way. I mean, she got herself involved with Hot Rod Dunham who's one of the biggest pot dealers outta Memphis."

"You're kidding," she said, genuinely surprised.

"I wish I was," Raylan folded his hands in his lap. "Problem is, she's too damn smart for her own good. And she uses her smarts for bad and not good. It's a choice we all make, and she's made hers."

Winona shifted her weight, holding her head up with her hand and her arm bent at the elbow.

"And so, you started screwing her social worker?" she asked, not understanding how one led to the other.

"Tim's not the only one who's lonely," he answered in his defense. "And she reminded me a little of you with her smart mouth." He shot Winona a half grin and slid his eyes sideways to hers. "I like her well enough, but everyone's always gonna be a distant second where you're concerned."

Winona smiled at the echo of her own words to him, not so long ago.

_(To be continued …)_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

_The Baby Mama_

A knock at the door made Raylan jump to his feet before it woke the baby. It was the pizza man or rather, a kid. He paid the kid and quietly placed one of the large slices, without mushrooms, on a plate and brought it to Winona along with a couple of napkins and a bottled water he pulled out of the mini bar.

"Thank you," she said, sitting up propped up against the headboard with Willa sleeping beside her.

Raylan turned the television on low, keeping one eye on the Wildcats' basketball game while they ate their pizza. Willa stirred and woke up as they were finishing, and Winona nursed her while he took out the pizza trash and fetched her suitcase she'd left in the car.

When he returned to the room, Willa was lying on the bed and Winona was staring at her, wide eyed and smiling. She had just finished changing the baby's diaper.

"You just missed it," she said over her shoulder to Raylan. "Our little girl rolled over all by herself!"

He walked over to the bed. Looking down at Willa, he said, "You wanna tell her, or should I? Me? Okay." He smiled at Winona. "She did that yesterday."

Winona punched his thigh. "And you didn't call me?"

"You made it pretty clear that callin' you was off-limits, or Art did, anyway." He picked up the rolled up wet diaper from the edge of the bed and threw in trash and washed his hands.

Winona put her face down next to Willa's, her smile bright. "I can't believe your daddy didn't call and tell me. Good girl! You're getting so big!"

Willa responded with a drooly grin.

'You're gonna have a tooth pretty soon, aren't you?" Winona said. She sat up, scooping the baby into her lap. After her time away, she couldn't get enough of holding her. "Did she give you any trouble?"

"She was a little fussy last night," Raylan said. "With her teeth."

"Did you give her Tylenol?"

"No way. Not after you scared me with your instructions."

Winona became concerned. "Well, what did you do? You didn't just let her suffer, did you?"

Raylan reached into the diaper bag. "I bought her some of this stuff a lady with kids recommended. It's some kinda non drug teethin' stuff that doesn't have all the bad chemicals in it." He handed Winona the package of homeopathic teething drops.

He decided he wasn't about to hang himself by telling her he took Tim's suggestion of using bourbon. And besides, Willa promised him she wouldn't say anything. Things were rather pleasant between him and Winona tonight, and he aimed to keep it that way.

"Well, did the stuff work?" she asked, studying the box.

"Yeah," Raylan nodded. It was half time and the Wildcats were 12 points ahead of Oregon State. "Works good."

"I think Gayle mentioned something about this stuff, but I forgot about it," she placed the box in the nightstand. She looked up at him, "That's pretty cool that you went into a store and took care of that for her."

"It was my pleasure," he said, taking a seat on the bed beside Willa.

Raylan extended an index finger, and Willa wrapped her tiny fingers around it and grabbed on tight. She looked him in the eyes, still smiling, still drooling, and said, "Da-da-da-da-da."

They both laughed.

"She hasn't said 'ma-ma.' Not once since I've been back," Winona said wistfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"She did while you were gone … a lot," he reported. "She missed you, Winona."

"She did?"

"I'm sure of it."

"How could you tell?" she asked. "Did she cry for me?"

"She was fussy that first day. I don't think it was all because of her teeth," he elaborated. He could tell Winona was feeling guilty for leaving Willa, and he added, "But you know what? She did okay, and you need to know that in case you ever want or need to leave her again. You know?"

"Yeah. I know. It's just that …" She stopped herself.

"It's just that … what?" Raylan asked with Willa still holding onto his finger.

"It's just that … it's a shame she has to be with either you or with me, all the time," she put it out there. "That she can't have both her mama and her daddy at the same time more often."

"This _is_ nice," he agreed.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma," Willa waved her hand and Raylan's finger up and down, still smiling.

"There ya' go, Mama." Raylan smiled at Winona, who looked happier than he'd seen her all night, if that was possible.

With one of his girls holding his finger, he reached over and cupped the face of his other girl and leaned in for a kiss. Winona didn't stop him. She didn't even notice he tasted of mushrooms. His kiss was slow and sultry, hungry and tender, warm and familiar … all at the same time. He took her breath away as he always did.

She finally came up for air. "What are we doing?"

"What do you mean? I kissed you," he said, not backing away.

After a moment of silence, he asked, "Have you ever thought about comin' back to Lexington?"

"That's the same thing Gayle asked me," she confessed.

"Well, it's good to know Aunt Gayle and I are on the same side for once," he said, looking for some levity.

"Aunt Gayle is on your side more often than you think," she once again confessed.

He flashed her a look of disbelief.

"Well, she is," Winona insisted, "especially when it comes to Willa needing both her mama and her daddy." After a beat, she added, "I've been waiting for you to come around where Willa is concerned. Art said you had cold feet."

Raylan raked his fingers through his hair with his free hand and sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it, Art was onto something. I did have cold feet. I don't know what the deal was. I've never been a father before." His eyes locked with hers. "But it's good you and Art cooked this up because I did wade on in, and the water is just fine."

He took a hard swallow and continued. "I love this little girl. I can't imagine bein' a long distance Dad. Our situation with Detroit has been taken care of, and besides, you two will always have me and Art and Rachel and Tim lookin' out for you. Did'ya know Uncle Tim told me that he would even take a bullet for her? That's why I kinda felt obligated to help him with his situation tonight."

"Wow, that's a pretty strong testament," she smiled.

"You know how I feel about you," he reached up for her face again. "I can give you as much or as little space as you need. But I'm always gonna be thinkin' about you. You know that."

"I think about you, too, Raylan." She bounced Willa lightly on her knees, holding both the baby's hands in her own. She looked down at her daughter, rather than at Raylan. "Remember when we first met, how we both swore we'd never come back to Kentucky?"

"Ye-ah," he said, cautiously, not sure where she was going with this. He watched his baby girl, eyes bright, enjoying her 'horsey ride'.

"You hated it when they sent you back here, didn't you?"

He pushed up off the bed, walked to the dresser and poured himself two fingers of bourbon before he answered. "It wasn't my choice, no, but turns out, somethin' good came out of it." He pointed to Willa.

Winona smiled. "Yes, I know that. But...," she stopped bouncing the baby and wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. "As long as you're here, Harlan – and all the bad memories it holds - will have a pull on you." She shivered. "I hate that place."

Raylan took a long swallow of bourbon and hoped to God Winona _never_ found out he'd taken Willa there. "What're you gettin' at?"

"Have you ever thought about coming back to Miami? You liked working with Dan, and he offered you your job back once, didn't he?" She dipped her head, and her hair fell forward, hiding her face from him. "This all might be easier away from there."

"I've thought about it. Dan had an openin' at the time he made me that offer." After a moment of silence, he took another swallow of the bourbon for courage. "Did'ya know you were comin' here tonight to talk to me about leavin' my post with Art?"

She looked over at him. "I could see how you might think that, but no. I wasn't planning on talking about this tonight. I know how you feel about Art and Rachel and Tim. I have feelings for them, too." She shifted Willa in her arms. "I'm not going to lie. I have had _thoughts _about the possibility of you transferring back to Florida before. But I agreed to stay here tonight to allow you and me to spend time with Willa together. I didn't come up here to start a fight."

Raylan didn't say anything.

"Like you, I'm just trying to think of a way you and I could both be close to Willa."

He nodded. "I believe you." He returned to where he had been sitting on the bed.

Tired, but even more weary of this ongoing discussion about leaving Kentucky, Raylan scrubbed his face with his hand. "I can't do this tonight, okay?"

Little Willa's eyes were getting heavy, and she was close to nodding off. They had done a good job of keeping their voices down.

"That's fine," Winona nodded. "But would you at least promise me you'll think about it?"

He took one last, hard swallow of the bourbon, leaving behind an empty glass. He set the glass down firmly on the night stand and stared into space.

"Yeah, I promise."

With her free hand, Winona reached over and grabbed his. Still staring into space, he gave hers a squeeze.

A few minutes later, Raylan turned his attention to the last quarter of the ball game. He stretched his long frame out on the bed. Winona carefully placed a sleeping Willa in her crib, grabbed a few things from her suit case, and went into the bathroom.

She returned a little while later with freshly brushed teeth. She kept her clothes on and returned to her side of the bed, lying down on top of the bedspread. Instinctively, Raylan held out his arm for her, and she snuggled in. They lay there, quietly watching the rest of the game, until they both drifted off to sleep.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Willa's cry roused them both a little past three. "I'll get her," Raylan said, sitting up and raking a hand through his hair. He made his way to the port-a-crib by the flickering light from the television and picked up his daughter.

"She's probably wet," Winona said. She sat up too, reaching for the diaper bag as the baby continued to wail.

"Nope," Raylan said, checking. "Might be her teeth again."

"Where's that teething stuff you got?"

"Right here."

"Come're baby girl," Winona crooned. She held out her arms for the baby and held her while Raylan put some of the drops on her gums. Willa continued to fuss. "This worked last night?" Winona pursed her lips and looked at Raylan, rocking Willa in her arms.

"Yeah, it did," he lied. He glanced at the bottle of bourbon on the dresser, wondering if it would be possible to sneak some onto Willa's gums without Winona noticing.

"Hand me that bottle," Winona said, shifting Willa to the crook of her arm.

"This?" Raylan cocked a finger at the bourbon.

"Yeah," Winona chuckled. "When Gayle had her first, Mama showed her this trick. I'm surprised you didn't think of it."

Raylan splashed some of the dark liquid into a glass and handed it over. Winona took a quick sip, then ran her finger around the rim of the glass and over Willa's irritated gums. The baby closed her mouth around her mother's finger, and Winona raised an eyebrow at Raylan. "She's your daughter, alright." Winona repeated the motion another time, and then nursed Willa until she fell back asleep.

"You're good at this," Raylan said, watching from the bathroom doorway.

Winona blushed and shifted on the bed, buttoning her shirt. She stood and carefully put Willa back in the port-a-crib. "I've had a lot more practice than you," she said. "And the first month or so, I had Mama right there." She stood looking down at the baby. "Even now I call her at least once a day to ask about something."

A picture of Helen flashed in his mind. She would've adored this baby girl. And, though childless, most likely she'd have been a fountain of advice passed down from all the women in her family. He swallowed hard, pushing the memory of his aunt away.

Winona cocked her head, studying him. "Seems to me you did just fine with her. You just needed a little push."

"More like a good hard shove," Raylan admitted.

Her eyes flashed. "You said it, not me, Cowboy."

"Well, she's got me now. I couldn't stay away if I tried."

"Good." Winona covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a nightgown. "I can't sleep in these clothes all night." She slipped by him, closing the bathroom door behind her.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she could see that Raylan's eyes were closed. Still in his clothes and on top of the bedspread, he appeared to have fallen back asleep. It was so dark in the room, she left the bathroom light on and closed the door except for a little crack. She placed her clothes in a laundry bag on top of her suitcase. Then, she gingerly stepped over to the TV and turned off the power. She had just enough light to find her way back to the bed where she slipped herself in under the covers, in between Willa's crib and Raylan. Once again, with the timing of a long married couple, Raylan held out his arm for her, and she once again snuggled on in.

Raylan quietly mumbled with his eyes still closed, "I want you to know if I wasn't so dog tired, I'd be all over you about now." He tightened his arm around her.

"I appreciate that," she smiled in the dark. "Now, you know what I meant about sleeping when the baby sleeps."

"Ya' never told me that sleep would become a bigger commodity than sex."

She giggled, trying to keep her volume down. "You would never have believed me."

"I do now," he mumbled and let out a deep, long exhale. Clearly, he was losing his battle to stay awake.

Winona let her fingertips trail down the length of his arm.

"Raylan?" she whispered.

She was met with silence and the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. She adjusted her head so that her face was buried against his chest and lightly wrapped her arm across his waist.

"Sleep tight," she spoke softly, at home in his touch, his warmth, his smell.

_(To be continued …)__  
_


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 8_

_A Day in the Life_

The next morning, Willa woke up like clockwork, at 7:00 a.m., and had both her momma and her daddy stumbling around the darkened room. Raylan squinted his eyes as he adjusted the blinds, allowing some sunlight into their room. He then picked Willa up out of her crib and changed her messy diaper in the bathroom. When she was clean and dry again, he handed her off to Winona to nurse her.

"They don't have Room Service at this fine hotel," Raylan explained to Winona as she nursed. "Evidently, they don't have their room wait staff trained yet, but I can make a lousy cup of coffee out of this here coffee maker. And then, we can go down to the restaurant and have some breakfast. They have a pretty nice spread down there. How does that sound?" he asked, hoping against hope that Mandi wasn't on the morning shift.

"I'll take any kind of coffee," she said, letting out a yawn. "Even a lousy cup."

"You and me are on the same wave length," he said. After he poured the water into the pot and switched the coffee maker on, he turned to her. "While you're feedin' Willa, I'm gonna go jump in the shower."

He rifled through his bag and said, "Shit. This was the last clean shirt I had. And it's not so clean anymore." He pulled on the shirt he slept in and gave it a sniff. Making a face, he said, "This isn't gonna work."

"Look inside my bag," Winona pointed. "See that bag that says 'Serendipity?'"

Raylan did as he was told. "This one?" he held up a black plastic bag with white writing on it. It smelled good, like clean lemongrass and not some of the foo foo stuff that most women liked to wear.

"Yeah, I bought a couple of t-shirts at the spa," she explained. "There's one in a large I bought myself to sleep in? It will probably fit you."

He pulled out the shirts, leaving bottles of lotions and such in the bag, and found the t-shirt with tags still on it. It was a plain white shirt with cool black lettering across the front that repeated the name of the spa, "Serendipity" and "Spa and Salon and Spa, Cincinnati, Ohio" on the back

"Spa and _Salon_." Raylan made a face. "But it's clean, and I guess beggars can't be choosey," he sighed.

Winona couldn't help but laugh. "Could be worse. I almost bought that shirt in pink."

"Thank God for your sensibility," he smiled. "And thanks," he gave a nod, grabbing the shirt to go along with his last pair of clean boxer briefs. "I'm gonna drop off my laundry at the front desk. We can include anything of Willa's or yours. There's no need for you to be worryin' about doin' laundry while we're here. It'll be delivered back to the room by 3:00 this afternoon."

"Thanks," she smiled. "I do have a suitcase full of laundry from the trip?" she questioned as if she might be taking advantage of his offer.

"Bag it all up, girl," he smiled and headed for the shower.

Showered and dressed, with a cup of coffee in his hand, Raylan took over, feeding Willa some peaches and a bit of cereal while Winona took her own shower. They made a good team, and the whole family was on their way to the dining room by a little after eight.

They dropped the laundry off at the front desk and followed the enticing smell of bacon to the restaurant. Winona's stomach growled, and she giggled. "Sorry," she said. "I'm starving."

Raylan headed for the same table by the window where he'd sat with Tim, scooping up a stand for the baby carrier on the way. He scanned the room and spied the same older waitress who served him and Tim serving coffee to two buxom, over-dressed Kentucky matrons, but there was no sign of Mandi.

Winona slipped her purse off her shoulder, shoving it under the table. She secured Willa in the carrier and snapped it into the stand placed close to her.

The waitress came, and when Raylan nodded, she turned over their coffee cups and poured. She couldn't help but notice the very tight, graphic tee-shirt on Raylan's well defined, muscular frame. Recognizing him and the baby, she could have sworn he was the more masculine of the couple she served the day before.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma," Willa smiled at the lady.

"Is this your mama, little one?" the waitress asked as she poured.

"I am," Winona nodded with a proud smile.

"It's so nice you helped him and his friend have a baby," the waitress nodded with a forced smile. And walked away.

"Huh?" Winona looked at Raylan and raised her shoulders.

Raylan leaned over closer to Winona and whispered, "She thinks I'm gay." Looking down at the shirt, he lamented, "I guess this is not helpin'."

"Wha …?" the look on her face was priceless.

"Tim met me here for breakfast yesterday, Willa was sayin' Ma-ma, Da-da, and the waitress put two and two together and decided Tim and I were a couple," Raylan tilted his head, not amused.

Winona put her fingers to her lips and chuckled. "Oh, so you and Tim are the couple, and I'm the surrogate?" She laughed again. "You have to admit it's kinda funny."

He thought, _I suppose this is better than runnin' into Mandi, though not by much._

They took turns loading their plates at the buffet with Winona going first. Raylan went for pancakes this morning, adding a side of bacon and some fruit, while Winona's plate was loaded down like Tim's with eggs, toast, yogurt, and fruit.

Raylan stared. "I've never seen you eat so much."

"I'm hungry all the time, "she said, taking a bite of toast.

"Well, you aren't gainin' any weight I can see."

She gave him a grateful smile. "Nursing really burns the calories."

Seated, with much better coffee and food in front of them, he took a moment to look Winona over. "Motherhood agrees with you," he said. "I like the hair."

"Do you?" She patted it. "It's shorter, but it takes a lot less time."

He shrugged. "It's not that short." He glanced down at her unfamiliar footwear, black patent flats she wore with black leggings and a long silky tunic in a striking blue that matched her eyes. "The outfit is different, too."

"Gayle took me shopping. It's an early birthday present." Her nose wrinkled. "I'm not sure about the outfit, but she liked it and the salesgirl kept gushing, so..." She took a sip of coffee. "It's more Gayle's style. It feels a little too 'suburban mommy' for me."

"I don't think either one of us looks like ourselves," he pulled the fabric of the Serendipity shirt out, between his thumb and forefinger for emphasis. "But, you look beautiful," Raylan assured her.

_Shit._ He thought. _He'd forgotten her birthday was next week._ "You do have a birthday comin,' don't ya?" He smiled.

"One year closer to forty," she sighed and her nose wrinkled again.

"Forty ain't so bad."

"Well, it looks good on you," she flirted.

He grinned. "Better than this t-shirt."

"Ma-ma-ma-ma!" Willa shrieked, banging the spoon Winona had given her on the side of the carrier. She grinned at her daddy and he leaned in, tapping her nose with a finger. She reached for the finger, losing her grip on the spoon, which clattered to the floor. Laughing, he bent to retrieve it, but another hand got there first, fingers tipped with pale pink nail polish, brushing his. His eyes trailed upward to meet Alison's.

"Uh...mornin'," he said. He flicked his gaze quickly to Winona.

"Hi," she said, all smiles. "I'm Winona."

_So, you're the baby mama, _Alison thought to herself._ Damn, you're pretty. _ "It's nice to meet you, I'm Alison." The blonde held out her hand and the two women shook.

"You want to join us?" Winona asked.

Raylan cringed inside. Alison glared at him until he became so uncomfortable he moved to the center of the round booth, in between the two ladies.

"Nice shirt," Alison said with sarcasm. After she seated herself, she looked over at Willa. "So, this must be your daughter? I don't think we were formally introduced last night."

"Uh-yeah. This is Willa," he said, looking a little green.

The baby continued to bang on her tray with the spoon.

"My, she's a pretty little girl," Alison said with a plastic smile, annoyed at the loud noise the baby was creating.

"So," Winona interjected. "You're dating Raylan."

Alison looked over at him. "Is that what we're doing? Because I'm not sure what we're doing."

Very calmly, Raylan answered both ladies, "Alison and I just started spendin' time together, gettin' to know one another."

He could only hope Winona clearly remembered their talk the night before.

"Yeah, he explained his _situation_," Alison elaborated, sounding very confident. "Told me all about you. And Willa."

About that time, the waitress returned with a full pot of coffee, turned over Alison's cup and filled it and warmed up Raylan's and Winona's. All the while, she stared at Raylan, there with his two gal pals, and then left, shaking her head.

Cool as ever, Winona continued on with the conversation. "Raylan told me about you, too, Alison. You're Loretta's pot-smoking social worker." She sliced Alison with a sugary sweet smile.

"Raylan!" Alison was angry to find he once again told someone of her extra-curricular activities.

Raylan sunk down into his seat a little.

Winona, on the other hand, didn't miss a beat. "Oh, he didn't tell me about the weed," she spoke very matter-of-factly. "I smelled it on you when we passed last night in the lobby. It was pretty overwhelming. I think everyone smelled it."

Uncomfortable being in the center of their line of fire, Raylan decided to defuse the uncomfortableness by asking, "Alison, why are you here?"

Still steamed, she answered, "I thought maybe I was being a little harsh on you last night. That maybe those two floozies were with Tim, like you said."

Winona, who had a pretty good idea about what happened, leaned back into the booth to watch the sparks fly.

"I was just helpin' out a friend." Raylan said. He took a long gulp from his coffee. "They left with Tim. Right after you stormed outta here."

"Well, then," Alison said. "I'm sorry." She ripped open a sugar packet and dumped the whole thing into her coffee, following it with a generous splash of cream. "But you still had no business bein' in a bar with a baby."

Raising the coffee to her lips, she stared at him over the rim of the cup. He felt Winona's gaze on him, too.

"She was sleepin'." He sighed and stabbed a piece of pancake with his fork.

Willa broke the tension. "Da-da-da-da!" She shrieked, tossing the spoon at him. It landed in the syrup, splashing droplets onto the clean t-shirt. Alison smothered a laugh.

"No," Raylan admonished, grabbing the spoon and putting it out of Willa's reach. "We don't throw things."

Willa's little face crumbled at the unfamiliar tone in her daddy's voice, and Winona glared at him. "You can't just take something away, Raylan. She doesn't understand '_No_' yet. You have to distract her." She bent and scooped the stuffed monkey out of the diaper bag, wagging it in front of her daughter.

"Gah!" Willa grinned, instantly happy again.

"Parenting is hard work," Alison said.

"Yes," Winona nodded in agreement. "It is. But it's totally worth it."

Happy the focus of the conversation had changed, Raylan was about to agree when Tim slid into the booth beside Alison, turning over the last coffee cup and waving down the harried waitress.

"God, my head hurts," the sniper moaned.

The waitress stared at them all for a moment, poured the coffee, and walked away without a word, shaking her head at the changing partners.

Recalling the scene from the previous evening, Winona smirked at Tim. "Rough night?"

"Rougher morning," Tim said. He closed his eyes and took a sip of the coffee. "Art's back." He sighed. "He stopped by the Monroe place this morning to tell me Rachel's mom is in the hospital for observation."

"She gonna be okay?"

"They think she had a small stroke, but yeah, she's gonna be fine. Rachel is takin' a few days off." He set the cup down. "Did you miss the part about Art stoppin' by this morning?"

"Shit," Raylan said, and then mouthed a _sorry _to Winona. "The girls were still there?"

Tim nodded. "Sleepin' it off. Art's pissed at you." He held the cup in both hands and stared into it.

"Me!? Why's he pissed at me?"

"Had something to do with you were supposed to tell me about Rachel's mother _and _you were to keep me outta trouble," Tim repeated the conversation he had earlier that morning with his boss.

"You mean like I was in charge?" Raylan squinted. "I wasn't in charge. He never said that."

"With Rachel gone, he says you were," Tim took another sip of the coffee. "Or you should have assumed."

Talking with his hands, becoming very animated, Raylan responded. "How is it I'm supposed to be in charge when I've been put on unpaid leave, by him, to take care of little Willa here?"

"Don't know," Tim slowly shook his head to keep the pain level down, "but you can ask him because he wants to see you for a few right after lunch."

"Shit," Raylan said under his breath, catching a stern look from Winona that reminded him to watch his mouth in front of the baby.

Alison's cell phone chirped and she glanced down. "It's work. I gotta take this." She shoved a hip against Tim, who rose slowly from the booth, letting her pass. She laid a hand on Raylan's shoulder. "Call me later."

Tim sat back down and looked at Raylan, seeing for the first time the writing on the t-shirt. He chuckled. "Nice shirt."

"Shut up, Tim."

"Fine. I need food," Tim said and crawled over to the buffet.

After Tim left, Raylan looked over at Winona who had turned her attention to Willa.

"You know, they have bananas for her if you want," he said. "We could have that snarly waitress bring us one."

"Might not be a bad idea," she said, still paying him not much attention.

He leaned over closer, her way. "All you have to do is say the word … and she's gone. I meant what I said. That all Alison and I were doin' was spendin' time together. I would much, much rather be spendin' all my time with you."

"She came here see you; but she stayed to check out her competition," Winona said, finally looking his way. "Can't say that I blame her."

"Only there isn't any competition," Raylan raised his eyebrows. "Not where you're concerned."

The waitress passed close to their table and Raylan flagged her down. "Can we get a banana and some apple sauce for the little one, here?" He indicated Willa with the point of a finger.

"There are bananas on the buffet," she told him. "But I'll see what I can do about some apple sauce."

"I believe you, Raylan," Winona said, once the waitress left. "Thing is, I'm in Miami, and you're here."

"Yeah, that's right. And I guess once again I'm the one expected to make the compromise and do something about that." He sighed, tossing his napkin on the table. "I'm gonna get Willa a banana."

When Tim returned to the table with his plate full to overflowing, the silence was thick. Winona mashed the banana forcefully with her fork, then scooped up a spoonful and held it out to Willa who pushed it away. "Da-da-da-da!" The baby cried.

"You want your daddy? Fine. Here," Winona said, sliding the bowl of banana to Raylan. "It's a gorgeous morning. I'm going to take a walk around the block. By myself." She scooted out the other side of the booth, grabbing her purse from under the table. Kissing Willa on top of her head she said, "Mama will be right back. Be good for Daddy." And she was gone.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma?" Willa said, cocking her little head at Winona's retreating back.

"Here." Raylan held out the spoonful of banana and Willa wrapped her mouth around it.

"Num-num-num," she mouthed, pushing half the fruit back out with her tongue. Raylan scooped it back off her chin and into her mouth again and she grinned.

"Go after her," Tim said, reaching to take the spoon from Raylan's hand. "Go on. I can handle Willa here for a few minutes."

To the man who didn't do babies, Raylan asked, "You sure?" Through the window, he watched Winona walk by and turn at the corner.

"Go," Tim repeated. "I got this."

_(To be continued …)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 9 _

_Same Dance, Different Music_

Coming out of the hotel, Raylan looked down the block to the corner where Winona had disappeared. Taking a page from the Marshal Handbook, he turned the opposite way. If she was really just walking around the block, he'd run into her … eventually. Sure enough, halfway down the next street he spied her, head down, lost in thought. He stopped, leaning against one of the colorful planters that lined the narrow street and waited. When she was almost past him he spoke. "Hey."

She looked up, startled. "Raylan." She shook her head. "Why do you always chase after me?"

"Why are you always runnin' away?"

"I told you I wanted to be alone."

"I thought you meant without Willa, not without me," he said. He dipped his head, trying to catch her eye or make her smile.

She didn't answer.

"If you really need some more time alone, you can leave Willa with me. We were doin' fine."

"Is that what you want?" She met his gaze. "Do you _want me _to leave?"

"I've _never_ wanted you to leave." he said, his eyes glistening. "Stay." Attempting damage repair, he continued, "Let me go talk to Art and then, we can spend the day together. You, me, and Willa."

She nodded, biting her lip. "I'd like that."

"Good," he smiled and leaned in to kiss her.

Then, she pulled away, doing a double-take, staring at him. "Raylan? Where's Willa? Tell me you didn't leave her with Tim! Raylan?"

Winona started walking and despite his longer legs, he had to quicken his steps to keep up.

"How could you?" She said, over her shoulder. "He doesn't know anything about babies."

"What? Tim told me to go after you," he defended himself, still lagging a step behind her. "He told me he could handle her for a minute."

"Your hung over, sniper, marshal buddy who treats babies like Kryptonite?" she asked, zipping into the hotel lobby as a bellman held the front door open for them. "Really?"

In addition to the urgency, in flats Winona could walk even faster than in her usual high heel footwear. So fast, she skidded to a halt when she rounded the corner upon entering the dining room, causing Raylan to skid right behind her. They were both shocked and relieved to see the grumpy waitress playing 'Itsy Bitsy Spider' with a laughing Willa, as Tim waved at them.

"She is a cutie," the waitress, whose name tag said 'Velma', said with the first smile they had ever seen out of the woman. "Can I get you folks anything else? I just warmed up your coffees."

"Just the tab, thanks," Raylan said with a weak smile. _Leave it to Willa to warm up the old hag, _he thought to himself.

"I'll be right back with your check," Velma said and left her party alone, waving her fingers to Willa who was still smiling.

Tim moved over towards the center of the booth to make room for Winona. "Did you two kiss and make nice?"

"We're workin' on it," Raylan said, as Winona dipped the end of a cloth napkin into her water glass and dabbed applesauce from her baby's face and hands.

Tim, still hung over, stretched his arms up into the air and then, looked over at Winona. "Don't take any shit off this guy."

"Tim. Language," Raylan scolded.

Picking up Willa's monkey from the seat and handing it to her, Winona then put her chin in her hand, supported by her elbow on the table, and looked at Tim. "Did you _really_ tell Raylan to go after me?"

"Well, yeah," Tim said without hesitation. "You two need to work your … _stuff_ … out because Willa needs both of you. I'm just stating the obvious." And after a beat, he said, "And you need to know that ol' Raylan here isn't _really interested_ in anyone else because he's still hung up on you."

Winona looked across the table at Raylan, his legs crossed, sitting at an angle on the edge of his seat, coolly sipping his coffee.

"It's like Raylan said … we're working on it," she said.

Raylan looked at her and gave her a nod.

"Then, my work here is done," Tim proclaimed, pulling a twenty-dollar-bill out of his wallet and slapping it on the table. "I'll see you two at the office after lunch. Don't be late. The finance meeting didn't go well, and what with Rachel out on top of it all, Art's testy enough as it is."

"Oh, and none of it has to do with the two hung over civilians at the Monroe place," Raylan said. "Please tell me he didn't find you all in a naked heap."

"No such luck," Tim yawned. "They passed out after two games of bowling and a half a bottle of Pappy."

"What a waste of good whiskey," Raylan lamented.

"Not really," Tim winked. "I finished it off. Scoot." Under the table, Tim gave a little kick to Raylan's boot. "I gotta go."

Raylan stood to let Tim out.

After he was gone, Winona reached across the table for Raylan's hand. "What are we going to do? We both want the same thing, but we always end up back in this same place."

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "We'll think of somethin'."

He was lying. He had no idea how this time would be any different than any other. The only thing that was different now was that beautiful, shining, little face sitting in her high chair.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

With Willa and her monkey in tow and Raylan doing the heavy lifting, they spent the morning walking through the park and then the shops at Victorian Square. They didn't do much talking; both of them content just spending time together. Not that hungry after their big breakfast, at lunchtime they split a hot pretzel from a stand and walked back to the hotel to feed Willa.

Back in the room, nursing their baby, Winona asked, "Should Willa and I stay here, or do you want us to come with you?"

"_Please_ come," Raylan begged, retrieving his badge and his gun from the nightstand. "Didya' see the way Willa soothed the savage beast in that old hag, Velma?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "I'm countin' on her to do the same with grumpy ol' Uncle Art." He looked up at Winona. "Besides, he likes you."

Winona laughed. "You want _this_ tiny girl to protect you from Art?"

"Well, yeah," Raylan smiled. "All's fair when Art calls you out. Hey," he pointed at her with an extended index finger. "You've never been on the other side of the Chief Deputy when he's pissed off. It's no fun. Plus if you two are with me, he won't be able to keep me at the office long."

"Okay," Winona sounded a little sheepish. "It's just that he'll be none too happy with me, either, for coming back early."

"I still say there's safety in numbers," he maintained. "After this meeting, we could come back here and put Willa down for a nap. Maybe take one ourselves. I thought maybe I could take you ladies out to dinner tonight."

With a gleam in her eye, she said, "Oh, could we go to Giuseppe's?"

"You missed Giuseppe's, didya'?" he smiled. "We could definitely do that. I'll call and make a reservation," he said, grabbing his cell out of his pocket, on his way to the restroom, and scrolling through his numbers on speed dial.

He emerged a few minutes later, face washed and teeth brushed to find Willa had been fed and changed and was strapped into her carrier seat. Winona was rearranging a few things in Willa's diaper bag.

"We have reservations at seven," he reported. Then, the expression on his face noticeably changed from a smile to one of distress. He let out a big sigh. "Let's go get this unpleasantness over with."

"We're ready," Winona grabbed the diaper bag and put it over her shoulder along with her own bag, while Raylan grabbed his car keys and Willa.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Winona!" Judge Reardon's boisterous voice echoed in the tiled entryway to the courthouse. He spied them as soon as they walked through the doors and wasted no time hustling his bulk over and wrapping her in a hug. "And look at this little beauty." Leaning over Willa in her carrier, he cast an eye toward Raylan. "I hope you aren't gonna let these two gorgeous ladies get away from you a third time."

Raylan hid behind the hat, shaking his head.

"It's just not the same without you," the Judge said, addressing Winona. "None of the other court reporters can compare to you, in beauty..." he leered. "Or skill. "When're you gonna come back to us?"

Winona flushed. "Thank you judge, but I'm not quite ready to leave this little one yet."

"Well, now, I can understand that, but anytime you are, you just let me know. We can always find a place for you."

Raylan caught Winona's eye and raised an eyebrow. "Good to know, Judge."

After standing on the sidelines while Winona showed off the baby to a few of her former co-workers, Raylan suggested they not keep Art waiting.

In the elevator he nudged her. "You liked your job."

"Yes, I did," she said.

"Somethin' to think about."

"We've both got a lot to think about, don't we?" She said, smiling sweetly. Just before they reached the right floor, an unpleasant odor filled the small space.

"My God," Raylan gasped, covering his nose. "Is that her?"

Winona giggled. "Well, it wasn't me."

They both looked down at Willa, looking innocently back up at them. She gave her mama and her daddy a big smile.

"Oh, feel better now, do ya?" Raylan chuckled.

"Probably the bananas," Winona said. As soon as the doors opened, she headed for the family restroom to alleviate the problem.

Tim's desk was empty, and with Rachel gone only Nelson was there to greet Raylan when he walked in. "It's not a good day," the other Marshal warned. "Art's waiting for you in his office."

"What's goin' on?" Raylan said, figuring there had to be something other than Tim's hijinx at the mansion.

"Word from the budget meeting is the Deputy Director thinks our office is overstaffed." Nelson sighed. "And I'm low man on this totem pole. Deborah is not gonna like it one bit if we're transferred."

"They're always sayin' shit like that." Raylan tried to reassure his coworker. "And nothin' ever happens."

Nelson rapped his knuckles on the wood frame of the message board. "Let's hope that holds true this time."

From his fishbowl office, Art noticed Raylan standing at Nelson's desk and waved him on back.

Raylan took in a deep breath and let it out as he took the same long walk to his boss's office he had taken many times before, the one that felt like he was walking into the Principal's Office for some discipline. Sticking his head in the door, Raylan tried to keep things loose by asking, "You rang?"

Art stood near his desk and looked Raylan up and down with his hands spread wide open and a _'what the hell'_ look on his face.

Raylan beat him to the punch. "Before you say anything about me lookin' like I'm wearin' a ladies t-shirt, it's because I am … wearin' a ladies t-shirt," Raylan explained, feeling very self-conscious standing before his boss in the clingy, tight shirt that showed off every muscle in his chest, back, and arms. "My clean laundry should be returned at the hotel just as soon as I can get back. Unfortunately, it wasn't in time for this meeting," he said the last part under his breath.

"Tell me, Raylan," Art crossed his arms over his puffed out chest. "Are you without a clean shirt because you were over at the Monroe place in the middle of that pile of debauchery I found over there this morning? Only you left before I showed up?"

"No," Raylan appeared shocked his boss would suggest such a thing. "I was takin' care of Willa back at the hotel." The energy in his voice rose as he went on. "And Winona showed up at the hotel last night, unexpectedly. I was with her and Willa last night. You can ask her. She's in the bathroom changin' the baby."

"But you would have been over there if Winona hadn't come back early?" Art asked.

"No, I had the baby with me," he again stated the obvious.

"If you hadn't had the baby?" Art skillfully interrogated his marshal.

"Well, no," Raylan answered the question. "Loretta's social worker came looking for me last night."

It was as if Raylan was laying out a list of witnesses who could account for his whereabouts.

Art chuckled. "Loretta's _pot smoking_ social worker."

Raylan screwed up his face, astounded. "You know about that?" _I'm gonna kill Tim_, he thought to himself.

Art nodded like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Raylan weakly offered, "I've asked her not to smoke in front of me."

Off the cuff, Art remarked, "It's not in our purview."

"Exactly," Raylan countered.

Art shifted the weight of his heavy frame. "I really don't give a shit about that, Raylan, except to ask, what the hell are you doing?"

"What?" Raylan held out his hands and flipped his palms up.

Now standing with his hands on his hips, Art went to the heart of the matter. "Didn't I ask you yesterday afternoon to keep Tim out of trouble until I came back?"

"Ya' did," Raylan acknowledged. "But I was a little preoccupied with takin' care of Willa, thanks to you."

Art took a seat on the edge of his desk. "So, Winona came back early. She didn't trust you to take care of the baby?"

"Evidently not, although she praised me on doin' a few things right," Raylan shared.

In an instant, the truth that Raylan would not give Art became clear. "You didn't want Winona to walk into that bar with those women there."

_Bingo._

"And so you sent them with Tim over to the Monroe place," Art was staring daggers.

Raylan didn't say a word.

"That's quite a predicament you got yourself into," Art acknowledged. "And me."

"I was tryin' to help Tim out," he explained, coming clean. "You know how it is with him."

"Yeah, right," Art scoffed in disbelief that this was all about Tim.

"He said he'd take a bullet for my kid," Raylan shared in all seriousness.

"Bros before ho's?" Art raised an eyebrow.

"Well, they're not exactly whores. More like floozies," he corrected. Then, he nodded defiantly. "But yeah. Damn right."

After a beat, Art pried a little more. "Tim also said you and Winona are trying to work things out?"

"We're talkin'," Raylan answered. "That's somethin'."

Again, folding his arms across his barrel chest, Art asked, "Can I give you some fatherly advice?"

Raylan looked at him, waiting for it.

"Don't screw this up with her," he forewarned.

"We're havin' dinner tonight at Giuseppe's," Raylan shared, almost asking for Art's approval.

"Good," Art nodded. "I recommend the Surf and Turf. Those big shrimp stuffed with the crab filling are excellent."

"Yeah?" Raylan asked, allowing his boss anything to get his mind off of the reason he called this meeting in the first place.

Art noticed Winona came into the office suite with Willa. She was saying hello to Nelson. Art waved at her through the glass.

"What's this I'm hearin' about the budget?" Raylan dared to ask. "Is it a problem I'm out on vacation?"

"Quite the contrary," Art answered. "I told you before, I'm saving the Marshal Service money for every stockpiled vacation day you use." He paused. "Within reason."

"What about Rachel bein' out, too?" Raylan pointed out.

Art sighed. "Her absence gives me an excuse to keep Nelson around. He can step up and work with Tim."

"Then, are we good?" Raylan tentatively asked.

Art once again looked his marshal up and down in his ridiculous attire, intentionally making Raylan uncomfortable one more time. "For now."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 10_

_Bella Bambina_

The late afternoon sunlight seeped through the blinds, filling the hotel room with thin beams of light and shadow. Winona was asleep, curled up beside him, breathing softly, and Willa was napping in her crib, but Raylan was wide-awake. Slipping off the bed carefully and moving quietly so as not to wake either of his girls, he located and opened his box of clean laundry, picked off a clean t-shirt, a button down shirt, and a clean pair of jeans from the neatly folded stack of clothes, and changed in the bathroom. Back in his own clothes, he grabbed the hat off the nightstand along with the badge and gun he felt naked without. Hand on the doorknob, he glanced back at the sleeping beauties, then slipped out into the hall and headed for the hotel bar.

He sipped his bourbon as he watched the looping reel of sports news on ESPN.

Raylan's mind was restless. He couldn't nap, couldn't relax, couldn't concentrate on the television. Being exiled into time off, not as a punishment but due to budgetary constraints, seemed like a load of bullshit to him. In fact, in recessionary times, DOJ data clearly showed that criminal activity went up. He knew first hand it was up in Harlan County.

_Here sits an under-employed LEO in a land of plenty of crime_, Raylan thought of the irony of the situation to himself.

After a time, he glanced at his watch and signaled the bartender for another. His mind raced, thinking of avenues he might go if need be. It was wishful thinking the stubborn economy would rebound any time soon. He could always hire onto a private security detail for some extra work. Corporations were always hiring. Warehouse security was easy work to pick up if one was flexible as it entailed 24/7 shifts. And then, there was always car repos. Nasty work, but it was legal and it paid well, especially for high end cars.

His cell rang. It was Tim.

"I came back to the office to find you gone," Tim began. "Bet you couldn't get out of here fast enough, huh?"

Raylan sighed. "You told Art about Alison's little weed habit?" His tone conveyed that he was not pleased.

"What the hell, Raylan," Tim shot back. "You tell everyone who'll listen that your latest flavor smokes weed … in front of you, no less."

"She has a tough job. Sees a lot of bad, bad shit on her job," Raylan explained, tracing his finger around the rim of his glass. "With you havin' been in Afghanistan and seein' a lot of bad shit yourself, I'd think you'd cut her some slack on that one."

Tim was silent for a beat. "I made an off-handed comment to the boss, not knowing he didn't already know about it from you," Tim explained himself in more detail. "Like I said, you tell everyone."

"I'd like to see her stop that bad habit," Raylan also explained himself. "Guess that's my way of needlin' her about it, but … it don't work."

Another awkward silence.

"Are we good?" Tim asked.

It was as much of an apology as either man was going to give.

"Yeah," Raylan said, followed by a sip.

"So, Art told you I'm paired with Nelson?" Tim pried.

"Yep," Raylan answered. "Is that a step up for him, or a step down for you?" Raylan asked in a joking tone.

"Honestly? I think it's a big step down for the entire Marshal Service," Tim volunteered. "We might as well let the heathens have the keys to the Kingdom."

"No shit," Raylan agreed.

"At least you're preoccupied with Winona and Willa a little while longer," Tim offered.

"I'm sittin' here at the bar thinkin' about what then? After they leave," Raylan took another sip. "We're all gonna need some extra dough. You've been around long enough to know how this budget shit works. Soon, our days will be cut."

"We're thinking along those lines, too," Tim shared. "Nelson has an in with Rupp Arena in the security area. He's already placed a call in. He said he would rotate a shift with the rest of us, in appreciation for helping him out."

"How does he have an in with Rupp?" Raylan asked.

"It's through Deborah. Her dad is some executive over there."

Suddenly not feeling so bad for Nelson, Raylan said, "Well, good for Nelson."

Tim caught Raylan's acidic tone. "No, seriously. Nelson is a very prideful, self-made man. He doesn't like leaning on his father-in-law. But in a case like this, he'd present us all as a package deal. Takes the sting out of it for him."

"Oh, okay."

Raylan still didn't give a shit.

"Well, gotta go," Tim said. "I've got a date with Randi Friday night."

_Ah, the real reason for this call,_ Raylan thought to himself.

"Really? Even after her and her randy sister gettin' the two of us in trouble?" Raylan smiled.

"Oh, man. She was worth it," Tim bragged.

"Good for you," Raylan said. "Just so Mandi understands I am no longer available."

Tim laughed. "These girls may be a little slow on the uptake, but I think they finally got that message loud and clear."

"Alright. You know where to find me for the next day or so," Raylan tried to wrap up their conversation.

"Alright, man. Later."

Raylan finished his drink and headed back up to the room. When he opened the door he saw Winona lying on the floor on her stomach, her bare feet in the air. Willa was on her stomach too, on the quilt, stretching toward her mother who was just out of reach. "Gah!" she yelled.

Winona laughed.

Willa grunted, pushing hard with her little arms, trying to raise herself up. "Ma-ma-ma-ma!"

"Com'ere, you," Winona said, scooping her up. She put her lips against the baby's bare tummy and made a smacking sound. "I could just eat you up!"

"Speaking of eating," Raylan said, smiling down at his two favorite ladies. "It's about time we get cleaned up and head for Giuseppe's."

Winona's face turned up. "Where've you been?"

"Down at the bar. You were sleepin', and I didn't want to wake you. Just needed to think."

"You're worried about the cutbacks, Art was talking about aren't you?"

"A little." He shrugged, amazed at how well she could read him, even now. "No use worryin' over somethin' you can't control." Willa held out her arms, and he lifted her over his head. She shrieked happily so he lowered her and lifted her again, making a _pfft pfft_ airplane noise.

Winona smiled and watched for a moment as Raylan played with their little girl. This is how she always imagined he would be with their children. It was a joy to see. She pushed to her feet and rifled through the suitcase, pulling out a bright pink ruffled dress and matching leggings. "Come on little girl, let's dress you up for dinner."

Raylan 'flew' Willa over to her mama with her back well supported. At the handoff, his eyes met Winona's. In that instant, he caught a glimpse of her joy.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

It was a lovely evening in Lexington, and Giuseppe's was crowded when they arrived. Louis, the ancient maitre d', recognized them and smiled when he saw Willa in her carrier. "A new member of the family! Congratulations!" He beamed as he led them to their table in a quiet corner of the smaller dining room.

Louis flipped a high chair over, turning it into a stand for the baby carrier. "Thank you," Winona said, snapping the seat in until it clicked. She gave Willa the ever-present monkey and sat in the chair the maitre d' pulled out for her. Raylan accepted the menus, and Louis gave a slight bow and retreated back to his post.

Winona slipped off her coat and Raylan gave her an appreciative glance, taking in the way the familiar blue dress clung to her now more generous curves. "I've always liked that dress," he said, remembering the night she surprised him at the motel wearing it.

"Thanks." she smiled at him, happy to be back in her favorite dress.

Moments later a waiter approached, cradling a bottle of wine in one arm. "Good evening, is this the Givens' party?"

Raylan nodded. "Yes."

"I'm Phillip, and I'll be your waiter. A Mr. Mullins called and ordered this bottle of wine for you."

"That's nice of Art." Winona caught Raylan's eye over the candlelit table. "Guess this means you're out of the doghouse."

"Maybe," he agreed. "Thank you," he said to the waiter. The waiter expertly opened the bottle, poured a splash into the glass and swirled it around before giving it to Raylan to approve.

"I'm not much of a wine connoisseur," Raylan said, swallowing it in one gulp. "That'll do." He nodded at the waiter.

The waiter poured Winona's glass and then filled Raylan's. After reciting the night's specials he left them to decide.

"Here's to..." Raylan said, raising his glass and his eyebrow.

Winona's lips turned up into a smile. Her eyes slid to Willa, preoccupied with chewing the monkey's ear, and back to Raylan. "Figuring things out." She finished.

"To figurin' things out." He clinked his glass against hers.

The waiter came back, bearing a basket of bread. Before he could take their order, Angela, the owner's plump motherly wife appeared, toting an antipasto platter and a stick of biscotti. Shooing Phillip away, she took over. "Mister Marshal! So nice to see you again. We have missed you. And look at this bella bambina!" She ran a hand over Willa's head. "Six months?"

Winona nodded. "Just about."

"She's teething I'd bet." 

"Yes, she is," Raylan confirmed.

"I can always tell." She held out the biscotti to Willa, who grabbed it, and stuck it in her mouth gazing adoringly up at the giver. Winona shot a panicked look at Raylan.

"It's okay for her to have?" Angela said.

Thinking it was a little late for her to be asking, Raylan shrugged a shoulder, deferring to Winona.

"No chocolate or nuts," Angela assured her. "Just plain with some anise. Both of my boys teethed on it, and my grandbabies, too. Look...she likes it."

Willa was happily gumming the hard biscuit, drooling all over the abandoned monkey.

"I guess it's alright," Winona said, relaxing a little. With all the directives in the child care books she'd read, sometimes she wondered how those of her and Raylan's generation had survived babyhood. A little biscotti wasn't going to hurt Willa. "But I think I may want to put a bib on her," she said upon seeing the sticky drool. She reached into Willa's diaper bag and pulled out a clean pink bib and separated the Velcro ends.

"Allow me," Angela said and gently placed the bib under Willa's chin, securing the ends on the other side of the baby's neck. "She is such a beautiful little girl," Angela gushed.

"Just like her mama," Raylan said, his gaze steady and warm. Winona flushed.

Angela beamed at them. "So happy! You let us cook for you," she insisted. "I know just what to bring you. You trust me?"

Winona nodded. "Of course."

"Good!" She smacked her hands together lightly. "Eat," she said, jabbing a finger at the antipasto platter. "And drink your wine." She winked at Winona. "You nurse her later and that little one will sleep well tonight. I'll be right back."

"Did she just suggest you get our daughter drunk?" Raylan joked as she walked away.

"Me having a glass or two of wine isn't going to get her drunk. And I can always give her some of the breast milk I left with you."

"Yep, there's a couple of bottles left in the fridge."

She took a sip of wine and smiled at him over the rim of her glass. "But it might be nice if she slept through the night."

Not sure how to respond, he took a long drink from his glass and reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell. "I'm just thankin' Art," he said as he texted away.

"Good idea, buttering up the boss."

Willa continued gnawing on the biscotti, watching her parents with wide blue eyes.

"She's happy," Winona said. "I think she likes us all being together."

Raylan watched the light play over Winona's face. "She's not the only one."

By the time Angela reappeared with a Caesar salad for them to split, they were both on their second glass and Raylan ordered another bottle.

After the new bottle had been opened and poured, he reached into his jacket pocket and slid a small flat box wrapped in silver paper across the table. "Happy Birthday."

Winona stared at him.

"Go ahead, open it." He grinned.

"My birthday isn't until next week," she said, grabbing up the package just as Willa reached for it.

"I know, but next week you'll be back in Miami, and ..." he shrugged.

Denied, Willa shouted "Ma-ma-ma-ma!" and banged a chubby hand on the table. Raylan quickly picked up the stuffed monkey and distracted his daughter.

Fingering the package, Winona laughed. "You never could wait. Remember our first Christmas?"

"What's wrong with openin' presents on Christmas Eve?"

"In the first place, it wasn't Christmas Eve, Raylan, it was three days before Christmas. You just couldn't wait to give it to me."

"Well, it was a great present and besides, I was low man in the office. I had to work the holiday, remember?"

"Yes, I remember." She held up a hand. "And it was a wonderful present." Her hand drifted to the initial necklace she still wore. "But, just to be clear, this little one will be opening her presents from Santa on Christmas _morning. _Not Christmas Eve."

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled indulgently. "Now, open your birthday gift."

She slid a finger under the tape holding the silver wrapping paper, unveiling a black box with JR stenciled on in silver. Her eyes widened. "Rosenberg's?"

He dipped his head and grinned, watching as she opened the box revealing the silver and sapphire drop earrings.

"Raylan! These are _gorgeous_."

"It's Willa's birthstone," he said.

"Oh, so it's a push-present."

"Huh?" He was genuinely puzzled. "No, it's a birthday present from Willa and me. They reminded me of your eyes."

"Ma-ma-ma-ma," Willa reached towards her mama.

The baby wanted that shiny, pretty whatever that shiny wrapping was.

Winona pulled the satin ribbon away from the wrapping paper, tied it in a tight bow, and handed it to her little one.

"Can she hurt herself with that?" Raylan asked.

"No because we're right here," she explained, happy that her daughter was now closely studying this strange new object. "I've learned that most of the time, she just wants to look at what she sees. She's very intelligent."

"Okay," Raylan said, not sure if he bought her explanation or not. However, Willa did seem to be content for the moment.

Enjoying the quiet, Winona began taking off her silver earrings and replaced them with the gorgeous sapphire drops.

"How do they look?" she asked as she closed the second lever back.

Raylan gave her a tight-lipped smile. "As pretty as I pictured."

Winona reached across the table and placed her hand over his.

"Thank you," she said. "It's been a long time since I've received a gift as beautiful as this one. Not that I'm jealous or anything like that but, for the past year, the only one who has been receiving any gifts or clothes and things is Miss Willa over here."

They both looked at the baby who was enthralled with the feel of the smooth satin ribbon that was now coated in biscotti goo.

"Yeah, but look how content she is with a simple piece of ribbon," Raylan remarked. "I figure at least for this first year or so, we're gonna get off easy for her birthday and Christmas. Give her the wrappin' paper, bows, and maybe an empty Quaker Oats box, and we're good to go."

They continued to watch their baby in awe.

Angela reappeared with a waiter carrying a tray with their meal on his shoulder. In the other hand, he held a stand which he flipped open and laid the tray on top.

Spying the remnants of wrapping paper and the box from Rosenberg's, a box that every woman of taste in Lexington knew well, Angela remarked, "Is tonight a very special occasion? You should tell us these things so we can prepare special music and desert." Her smile was sincere.

"Well, it's not really," Winona tried to downplay it all. "_Next_ week is my birthday, and Raylan and the baby got me these." She placed her first two fingers behind the right earring and showed it to Angela.

"Oh, my. They are _beautiful_," she gushed. "Mr. Marshal, you have very, very good taste in both jewelry and women."

He dipped his head. "I like to think so."

"Please, no big fuss," Winona pleaded to Angela with her eyes. "It's been such a long time since we've had a quiet night out. That alone is celebration enough for me."

"I understand," Angela winked at her. "I have 8 children and 14 grandchildren. May I take this away?" she pointed to the pieces of silver paper on the table.

"Yes. Thank you," Winona said. Instinctively, she picked up the Rosenberg's box that now contained her much less expensive silver earrings and tucked it into her purse.

Angela grabbed the pieces of silver paper and moved their untouched salad dishes aside. She then served the main course family style. There was ravioli in a rich meat sauce, risotto with asparagus and mushrooms, and a plate of the crab-stuffed shrimp Art had raved about. Before she left them alone, she lit the candle in the middle of their table and topped off their wine glasses. "There," she said, pleased with herself. "Now, the magic can happen."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 11_

_Best Laid Plans_

Once Angela was out of earshot, Raylan picked up his wine glass and raised it in the air. "Happy birthday," he smiled.

She picked up hers and lightly clinked his glass. "Thank you."

As they each took a sip, their eyes were fixated on each other with Raylan drinking in the image of her along with the wine. In the candlelight, her eyes sparkled as the sapphires dangling from her earlobes. She literally took his breath away.

"What?" she spoke softly, self-conscious at the intensity of his gaze.

He took in a deep breath. "You … are … absolutely… stunning. Always have been, always will be." At times like this, all their troubles and differences seemed to melt away.

"Raylan, I …," she stopped, taking a quick drink of wine.

"You what?" he asked.

She glanced over at Willa who had resumed teething on the biscotti. "You always say I'm beautiful." She looked down and then back up at him. "After having Willa, I'm not exactly the same as I was."

"Are you okay? Is there somethin' wrong?" He became concerned, wondering why it never occurred to him to ask her this before.

She averted her eyes down into her plate. "Oh, it's not that," she assured him. "Physically, I'm all healed, except for a stretch mark or two and the extra seven pounds I'm still carrying." And then, under her breath, she added, "And this meal is _not_ helping with that."

Her skin glowed. Glancing down at the tops of the mounds of her ample breasts, enhanced by the clinging silk dress, he said, "Trust me. Those seven pounds are in _all_ the right places."

Her gaze again locked with his as she took another sip from her glass, but there was distress in her eyes.

After taking a bite of the ravioli, this time it was Raylan who laid down his fork and reached across the table, placing his hand on top of hers.

Winona searched his eyes in the flickering candlelight. "Raylan," she swallowed her hesitation. "It's been a very long time since I've had … sex." She paused and took another sip of wine. "In fact, the last time was over a year ago… with you."

He squeezed her hand tight in his.

"I just don't want to …," she trailed off.

"You don't want to have sex with me?" Raylan finished her sentence, his face expressing confusion and alarm.

"No," she immediately corrected him, endeared by his reaction. "Trust me. I _want _to have sex with you. I almost jumped your bones last night." _There. I said it. _ Picking a piece of asparagus out of the risotto with her fork, she noticed that after a few glasses of wine, she was feeling pretty good.

"Good," he looked relieved. "Because I'm not gonna hurt you," Raylan said softly in a reassuring tone. "I've wanted you ever since I laid eyes on you in the hotel lobby."

Carefully choosing her words, she said, "I don't want to screw things up with you … again."

_There. Once again, I said what I meant._

Raylan shook his head. "You're not. We're not. We can't." And he nodded his head towards Willa, who was letting out a sleepy little yawn. "We owe it to her."

The air became thick with their desire for one another. With a table full of food between them, Winona downed the rest of her wine out of frustration. Moments later, she reached across the table for Raylan's glass and downed his, too.

Stunned, he watched her with wide eyes.

"Do you think we could ask Angela to box all this up 'to go?'" she asked in a pleading tone.

"Absolutely." Raylan looked around the room and signaled for a waiter who, after checking with them, promptly left to retrieve some boxes. Winona began to quietly gather Willa's things and place them in the diaper bag. "I can nurse her in the backseat of the car." She was thinking ahead, out loud. "I'll be discreet."

"Great idea," Raylan answered, sharing her growing impatience. The sooner they could be alone, the better.

"Is everything alright?" Angela asked, approaching the table with restaurant paper bags and boxes. "It the bambina alright?" She was worried perhaps something happened with the biscotti.

"Um, yeah," Winona said. "Everything is fine. I think _the magic_ worked really well." She smiled an almost apologetic smile.

Boxing up the risotto, Angela said, "I knew it. Soon, the bella bambina will have a little brother or sister. I can tell these things." She winked at Raylan, who flushed. At the moment, another baby was the _last _thing on his mind. Good thing there were condoms in the glove box.

Winona helped Angela move things along by holding the plate as the restaurateur scraped the meat sauce on top of the raviolis in a foil covered container. They repeated the ritual with the shrimp and the salad and placed the sealed containers inside the paper bags.

"This food is just as delizioso reheated for a little romantic late night snack," Angela went on and smiled at Winona. "I have some chocolates for you, too." She pulled wrapped, hand-made truffles from her apron pocket and placed a handful of them in the bag.

In the meantime, Raylan pulled out his wallet to retrieve a credit card.

"No, no, Mr. Marshal," Angela shook her head. "Mr. Mullins has already paid for everything. He was emphatic that you two have a lovely evening, and he even included a very generous tip. He wanted you to have musica, flowers, vino flowing."

Winona winced, really wanting to get this show on the road.

"Don't worry," Raylan assured the older woman. "I'll personally make sure Mr. Mullins knows we had the _best _night ever … thanks to you, Angela." This time, he winked at her.

Angela smiled, approvingly. "Grazie," she said. "You come back soon. Don't be such a stranger."

Raylan picked up Willa's carrier with one hand and the largest bag of food with the other. The baby was beginning to nod off. Winona flung her handbag and the diaper bag over her shoulder, and picked up the other smaller bags of food.

"Thank you," she smile at Angela. Wanting to make a quick getaway she promised. "We will come back soon." Truth was, she had no idea when they would be back.

Outside the restaurant, Raylan's hands were full. He asked Winona to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. She did so and looked through the bills slot and found the claim ticket. She handed it to the valet, and the young man left his station to retrieve the Lincoln. Finally alone, she faced Raylan and reached around him, placing the wallet back in his pocket. Gazing into his eyes all the while, she moved closer to him. She wrapped her free arm around his waist and pressed herself against him, feeling his instant response. As she balanced herself up on her high heels he leaned his head down and kissed her.

Their kiss quickly became deeper, igniting that familiar fire between them. Too soon, they were interrupted by the sound of the Lincoln, and it was Winona who abruptly released the embrace. Raylan opened the back passenger door and carefully locked Willa's carrier into the car seat base, and Winona climbed in beside her.

Raylan tipped the valet and hopped into the car, unloaded the food on the passenger seat, placed the car in drive, and headed for the hotel. Reminding himself of his precious cargo, he resisted the urge to drive with a lead foot.

In the rearview mirror, he watched Winona gently take a drowsy Willa out of her carrier and put the baby to her breast. She rubbed the baby's cheek to encourage her to nurse, and it worked. As he wove the car through the familiar streets of downtown Lexington, he continued to periodically glance into the mirror. Winona had never looked more beautiful.

Just as they pulled into the hotel parking lot, his cell phone rang. Raylan glanced at the screen and saw it was Alison. He dialed down the volume after the first ring and let the call go to voice mail.

Raylan found a parking place close to the front and backed the Lincoln in. Picking up the food from the seat beside him, he opened the door and slid out. "The drive back here was longer than I remembered," he joked, opening the back door for Winona.

The sight that met his eyes was sweet, but not what he was anticipating. His two beautiful ladies were both fast asleep.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The most sorrowful cries he'd ever heard came from the crib, waking Raylan. Rolling over, he glanced at the clock – it was 7:17 a.m. - and looked around the room. Winona was nowhere to be seen. His bare feet hit the carpeting and he made his way to the crib and pick up his little one.

"Hey, hey, now," he said soft, raising the tiny girl to his shoulder. "What's the matter with Willa?" He did a quick diaper check. "Well, that's not it."

He walked over to the kitchenette. As he neared the bathroom door, he could hear the shower running. He opened the door and poked his head into the steam filled room. "Winona? Should I heat Willa a bottle?"

From inside the stall she said, "I nursed her a little while ago. She went back to sleep." She couldn't help but hear the baby's sobbing and a moment later, she said. "You can try her on another bottle.

"Okay," he mumbled. Yawning, he stumbled into the kitchen with his crying baby. With one hand, he turned on the faucet to very warm water. Then, he opened the freezer and found the next to the last packet of breast milk and placed it under warm running water.

"It's comin', it's comin'," he tried to convince the non-verbal baby, jostling her in his arms. She was inconsolable, her bottom lip trembled, and big fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the packet of milk seemed to be at body temperature. He opened it and placed it in a clean bottle and screwed on the nipple.

"Here you go," Raylan said. He sat on the edge of the bed, cradling Willa in one arm as he offered the bottle. She pushed it out with her tongue and continued to wail. Setting the bottle down, he lifted her back to his shoulder, pacing around the room and patting her back. Just when he thought the wailing was going to split his aching head in two, she stopped fussing and shoved her fist in her mouth, drooling.

"Are your teeth botherin' you again?" He glanced at the bourbon on the dresser. "Normally I'd say it's a little early for alcohol, but I think even your mama might make an exception under the circumstances." He poured some into a nearby glass, stuck in a finger, and rubbed it on Willa's enflamed gums. In a split second she grabbed his finger in her tiny fist and chomped down. Something sharp dug into his skin.

"Ow!" He pulled his finger out and Willa grinned. "Well, I'll be damned," he said, spying a sliver of white on her bottom gum. "You're gettin' one in there. And it's sharp! That's gotta hurt. No wonder you were fussin'. Wait until your mama sees this."

The spray of the shower cascaded over Winona's pounding head. This was the worst hangover she'd had in years. She stretched her neck back, letting the warm water flow over her face as she rubbed her temples. God, she needed coffee, but first she something to settle her churning stomach, toast, maybe, or a muffin.

What had possessed her to drink that much? She didn't even remember how she got into the hotel room, or undressed, or if they... She reached for the shower nozzle and hesitated, running a hand over her once flat belly. Certainly she would remember if they'd made love, wouldn't she? And if they did, did they remember to use contraception?

_Oh, no,_ she thought to herself, and cradled her face in her hands, submerged under the spray. She stayed there for a good long time until the water began to cool. That was her signal to turn off the water and grab a towel from a nearby shelf. She wrapped it around her body and tucked in the end in her cleavage, and she grabbed another to towel dry her hair. The bathroom was so steamed, she couldn't see herself in the mirror, so she opened the door.

"If you can watch Willa for a minute," Raylan said as Winona slowly emerged, holding her aching head. "I'll run down and get you some coffee and an English muffin from the breakfast buffet."

Raylan remembered how she took to a hangover.

"Bless you," she said and slowly made her way back to the bed. "You didn't happen to find any aspirin did you?"

"'fraid not," he said. "They probably have some at the front desk, I'll ask."

By now, Winona had buried her head under a pillow. "I'll take them with the muffin," she said. "How's Willa?"

"She's quiet now, have you noticed?" he said still holding her in his arms. She was still a happy girl. "Seems the edge of a bottom tooth busted through the gum. That's why she was fussin'."

"Really?" Winona said, softly so as not to amplify her headache, peeking out from under the darkness of her pillow. "I'd come over and look if I could move."

Raylan winced at the site of his lady love. He could relate to hangover. He didn't drink as much as Winona and could hold his liquor a hell of a lot better, but his stomach had also seen better days.

"You want me to take her with me?" He wasn't sure how he would manage the baby, plus two coffees and breakfast for them, but he was willing to try.

"Would you?" Winona moaned.

"Yeah, but hold onto her here while I throw on some clothes," he said, laying Willa on her back, next to her mama.

"Okay," Winona mumbled, brushing her daughter's blonde tresses with her fingers.

"Raylan, how am I going make our flight today? I can't even move."

"So don't go," he said. Not yet showered, he stepped into the slacks he wore the night before. "Stay another couple of days. You could get to feelin' better, and we could go see Gayle, or take Willa to see your daddy. You mentioned wantin' to see him**.** I can change your tickets for you."

Raylan thought that he would love to have another opportunity to make love to Winona. The way the night before ended had been quite a disappointment to him.

"It would be nice to see him and introduce him to Willa. Gayle says he's not doing that well since he moved to the assisted living place after his last heart attack. I told you they think he has Alzheimer's, didn't I?"

After pulling a Henley over his head, he pulled his socks over his bare feet and stepped into his boots. "You mighta mentioned it." Truth be told, while he was avoiding them, what Winona said in their infrequent conversations had gone in one ear and out the other.

"I'd like him to at least meet his granddaughter," Winona murmured. "Maybe changing my flight isn't a bad idea, if it doesn't cost too much."

"I'll look into it when I get back. Come on, Miss Willa, let's go get your mama some food." He picked up his baby, shifted her to his shoulder, and picked up the key card from the dresser. "We don't even have to leave the room for lunch," he reminded Winona. "We've got all the leftovers from Giuseppe's."

_(To be continued …)_


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 12_

_A Road Trip Surprise_

Raylan carried Willa in one arm down to the restaurant. His daughter was a lightweight, petite like her mama. He had grown much more comfortable handling her over the past few days, so much so that he dispensed with the heavier baby carrier.

As soon as he reached the hostess stand, he immediately locked eyes with Mandi.

"Shit," he uttered under his breath, as Mandi walked towards them. To Willa he said, "You didn't hear that."

"Well, now," Mandi smiled a very unfriendly smile. "If it isn't Marshal Limp Dick. Would you like to be seated?"

"Excuse me?" He held out his hand like a stop sign. "Not in front of my daughter."

His abrupt protectiveness towards Willa surprised even him.

"Why not? She's gonna learn soon enough her daddy's a jerk," the waitress smirked.

"Mandi," he said, lowering his voice. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelin's the other night. No one was more surprised than me to see my ex-wife show up early. She's the one who kicked me to the curb, and now she wants us to work things out … for the baby's sake. You get that, don't ya'?"

"Do I get that you're a _playa_?" she glared at him, her voice becoming louder. "Yeah, I do."

"Ya' need to keep your voice down," he sternly demanded. "It wasn't like that at all," he tried again to explain. "I didn't know my ex wanted to work things out with me until we talked later that night. How could I have known?"

"Well, then what about that _other _blonde?" the waitress asked defiantly with her hands on her hips.

"Who?" he winced. "Alison? She's a social worker friend of mine."

"That's not what Tim said," she stopped him in his tracks.

Raylan screwed up his face. "Exactly what did Deputy Marshal Gutterson tell ya'?"

"He said you have the ladies eatin' out of your hand," she recounted. "The blonde ex-wife, the blonde the social worker, the blonde waitress," she resumed her glare.

_Feed him some alcohol, and Tim will become more loose-lipped than usual_, Raylan rationalized to himself. He couldn't help but notice how unattractive this young woman was when she was mad and wondered how he could have thought she was pretty only a few days before … long blonde hair and long legs aside.

He held on tight to Willa, who looked at her daddy with wide blue eyes. "That's Tim's perception. Doesn't make it true. I'm not a ladies' man. I'm a screw-up who has a chance to work things out with the woman I love, and I'm gonna take it." After a pause, he continued, "You and me? We never did anything. In fact, you'll recall you came up to my room _uninvited_, and I stopped you not once but twice from comin' on to me. Didya' know you have a propensity for losin' your clothes? I _did not_ lead _you_ on."

"Like you said, Marshal," she continued to smile through her glare, "it's all in the perception." After a beat, she asked, "Now, can I seat you?" She snatched a menu from the stand.

"Uh, no," he looked all around. "Is there another waitress on duty?"

"Nope," she said. "I'm it. You can follow me. I have a special _little_ table by the noisy kitchen than nobody likes." And she made the motion for 'little' with her thumb and index finger. "I think it'd be perfect for you."

"Tsk," Raylan remarked in response to her dig about the size of his manhood which she knew absolutely nothing about. Surveying the scene, it was clear there were lots of empty tables. Mandi was just being difficult. Another exasperated sigh came out of Raylan. "Look, I don't want to be seated. I need to order somethin' to go."

Mandi took her pad and pencil out of her apron pocket and loudly tapped the tip of the pencil to the pad, still glaring. "Let's have it."

Hesitant, he said, "Two black coffees, a toasted English Muffin, and some bacon and eggs, over easy." For some reason, greasy bacon sounded good to his queasy stomach. Not wanting to push his luck, he remembered there was cream and sugar back in the room with the lousy coffee.

"I'll be back with your order, but it could take some time," she warned. "You can sit over there … _and wait_," she said and pointed at a chair.

"I'm goin' over to the buffet to get my baby some fruit, if you don't mind," he pushed back.

"Suit yourself," she said. "It'll cost you extra." She added the buffet charge to her pad.

"I'm a payin' guest." he reminded her. "The buffet is _free_. Charge the rest to my room." And he walked away with Willa towards the buffet.

"Don't grow up to be one of those difficult women, okay?" Raylan spoke softly to his daughter.

"Gah," Willa smiled at him. "Da-da-da-da."

"Yeah, it's much better to get your way with honey than with vinegar," he said. "That's the way your mama usually tries. First, anyway." He kissed the baby on her temple. "Stay sweet just like you are, and you'll do just fine."

Once he'd made his way over to the buffet, his cell rang. It was Alison.

"Hey," he said, lying in wait for the reaction on the other end of the line.

"Didn't you get my message last night?" she asked.

"'fraid not," he lied in an effort to control the conversation. "What didya' want?"

"You're always tellin' me funny stories," she answered, lightly. "I had one for you."

"It's about time," he joked.

"Yeah, well funny doesn't happen to often in my line of work." After some silence, she said, "I thought I'd heard it all. Yesterday, I got a call from an elementary principal I've worked with before. He wanted me to check out a story a second grader told him. This was a really good kid, but he was spreading it around to all the other boys that girls get pregnant by sucking on boys' weenies."

"Really?" Raylan chuckled. "When I was in third grade, Johnny Crowder told us it was from kissin'. The times they have changed." He glanced at Willa and wondered if Winona would consider homeschooling her.

"Well," Alison went on, filling the silence. "The principal and I sat down together and told him 'Number one, you are in the 2nd grade and you shouldn't be talkin' about such stuff, and number two, your information is way off base," she recollected.

"Where do you think he got his misinformation?"

"Maybe he overheard somethin', or saw somethin' on TV he shouldn't have. You'd be shocked at what some of these kids – even the good ones – are allowed to watch." Allison answered, "At least I hope that's where it came from." After a pause, she asked, "What did you do last night?"

This time, he told her the truth. "I was out with Winona and Willa."

Alison took a hard swallow. "How's that going?"

"Good," Raylan answered without hesitation. "Alison? Winona wants us to try and work things out, again. For the baby. And, well, I want that, too."

Alison bit her lip. "I'm not surprised." She fell silent for a minute.

"Alison?" he wondered if she was still there.

She finally spoke. "If there's any way you can work things out with your baby's mama, I think you should. I told you that when we first started doing … whatever it was we were doing."

"I never intended …," Raylan began, but Alison cut him off.

"I'm a big girl, Raylan," she said. Unbeknownst to him, she fired up a joint on the other end of the call. "I knew I was takin' my chances datin' a lawman again. I rescue kids for a living. Willa having both her mama and her daddy, together? That's the best outcome that baby could possibly have."

"Thanks," he said. "You're a pro."

"I'll see you around, okay?" she said.

And before he could say anything more, Alison ended the call.

Raylan shoved his phone into his pocket and held Willa a little closer. "Well, that wasn't pleasant but it needed to be done. Now, let's find you some fresh fruit." He perused the long table until his spied a nice banana and a peach. He picked them up in his empty hand. "We'll take these up to the room, and you can have some breakfast, too," he said to his little one who was hanging onto his shirt sleeve with her hand.

As Raylan turned around, he saw Mandi in an argument with Velma, the older waitress who had taken a shine to Willa. They were looking straight at him. Velma motioned for Raylan to come around to the hostess station, and he did.

A moment later, the older waitress met him there with his food bagged. "I'm so sorry this took so long. Look, I caught Mandi about to spit in your coffees, if you can even call it coffee. It was more like the burned sludge you find in a pot that has been sitting on the warm up burners for far too long. Anyway, I made a new pot so your coffee is nice and fresh. And I'll report this one to the management so you have nothing to worry about." Velma put lids on the coffees and bagged them, too, so that he could carry everything. "We can't have anything happening to this baby's parents."

"Thanks. Hey, Velma?" Raylan asked. "I'm Raylan. I wouldn't be too hard on Mandi. She got the wrong idea between her and me, and I'd hate for her to lose he job over it."

"That's what I told her," Velma reiterated her conversation with the younger waitress. "I told her you could never be interested in her," referring to her continuing misperception of Raylan's sexual orientation.

Thinking it not worth it to straighten out the confused woman, he merely said, "Exactly." Then, he said, "Thank you, Velma, for lookin' out for us."

"You're welcome," she smiled and reached over to cup Willa's face. "Ya'll enjoy the rest of your stay with us."

With his hands overly full, Raylan left the restaurant feeling a lot lighter and boarded the elevator car, asking another guest to punch his floor for him. He had taken care of the unpleasant tasks of unloading his two placeholders. That's all women like Alison or Mandi could ever be to him. His one and only was upstairs in the bed, nursing a bad hangover.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"You sure you're feelin' up to this?" Raylan asked as he snapped Willa's carrier into the back seat of the Lincoln.

"I'm not going to be doing any cartwheels, but I think I can survive the drive to Louisville." She shifted the diaper bag off her shoulder. "Pop the trunk so I can put this in?"

Raylan hit the button on the key fob. "What'd Gayle say when you told her you were changin' your flight?"

"She laughed and said she told me so." Winona sighed. "Then she said Daddy was havin' a good day and suggested we come over, like I told you," she paused, staring down into the trunk. "Raylan, what's this?"

He peered over her shoulder. "Just a box of junk from Arlo's." He almost added that he'd picked it up from Constable Bob, but stopped himself just in time. He didn't want her questioning when he'd been to Harlan. The fewer lies he had to tell, the better.

"Is this your baby book?" She rifled through the box. "Oh! A photo album!" Stacking one on top of the other, she ducked under his arm to the passenger side and slipped in the back beside Willa.

Raylan slid behind the wheel. "So, I'm the chauffer?" he joked as he started the car.

Winona didn't answer right away. "You were a towhead as a baby," she said. He stopped before turning out of the parking lot, and she passed a picture forward. "I really think Willa looks a lot like you."

He gave the picture a perfunctory glance and passed it back.

"That's your mother, right? Who's the other woman? We should put names on the back so Willa knows who they are."

"I'm not so sure I want her to know who any of 'em are," he muttered, half under his breath. "That's not Helen, so it's probably just one of my mama's friends."

"You walked at nine months?" Winona squeaked.

"I think I remember my mama sayin' something like that, why? Is it in there?"

"Yep," she said, eagerly turning the pages. "She wrote everything down. God, I hope Willa doesn't take after you there. It's going to be hard enough keeping up with her when she starts crawling."

"Better get you some runnin' shoes," he joked.

"Funny." After turning the next page, Winona jumped in her seat and said, "Ewwww."

"What's wrong?" Raylan glanced in the rear view mirror, looking very concerned.

"Not only did your mom write everything down, she saved everything, too." Winona made a face and held up two small, folded packets of paper. "I love you, Raylan, but do you really think it's a good idea to have a 40 year old lock of your hair and a baby tooth?"

"Wha?" Raylan made the same face as Winona.

Winona pushed the button on the backseat armrest of the Lincoln and opened the window, pitching the two packets outside. "Remind me not to save anything of Willa's that could either be embarrassing to her or a biohazard."

"Didya' say you love me?" Raylan changed the subject.

She looked at him through the mirror. "I've always loved you," she answered. "You know that."

Raylan smiled back at her through the same mirror. "Good. Because I've always loved you, too."

Their eyes met for a moment and held, then Winona broke the gaze, turning another page in the baby book. "There's no birth certificate," she said. "There's a record of a home birth, signed by..." she squinted to read the faded signature. "Alma Monroe, certified midwife." She looked up. "You were born at home?"

"Everyone was born at home. Least ways everyone I knew." He shrugged. "I suppose you were born in the hospital."

"Vanderbilt," Winona nodded. "Daddy was working at a dealership in Nashville then. We didn't move back to Kentucky until I was five. That's when my grandpa died and Mama wanted to be closer to her mother. Daddy hated Kentucky. Kinda funny, he ended up stayin' here and Mama's in Florida."

More pages turned. "Raylan?" Winona's voice carried a hint of alarm. "You never told me you had a sister?"

He shook his head. "That's because I never had a sister."

"Yes, you did. There's another birth record and a birth certificate in here, stuck in the back. Same midwife. She was born a little over a year after you." There was a rustle of paper. "Tami Jo Givens."

Raylan held a hand out over the seat. "Lemme see that." Staring at the road ahead, Winona handed him on of the papers from the back seat. It was the Certificate of Live Birth.

"See up there in the corner, where it says 'Number of Live Births?" Winona pointed.

He glanced at it a couple of times and saw the number in the box said '2.'

"And here's the Birth Record for Tami Jo," Winona said, passing him the Birth Record.

"I'll be damned," Raylan spoke under his breath. "September 8, 1971 … that would be about sixteen months after I was born."

Winona sat back in her seat with her hand placed lightly over a sleeping Willa, all the while watching Raylan. She couldn't imagine what it would feel like to find out after all these years that he may have a sister … or _had_ a sister.

Raylan placed the paper on the empty passenger's seat. "Is there anything else?" he asked, his eyes fixed back on the road.

"No," she answered. "I looked through the pictures. I didn't see any of a baby except for you."

"Are ya' sure?" his narrowed eyes locked with hers through the rear view mirror.

"I'm sure," she was almost sorry to tell him. "But I didn't take everything out of the box, just this baby book and the photo album. Maybe there's something else in there."

She was surprised he didn't pull over to the side of the road right then to root through the box, but he didn't. For the remainder of the ride to Louisville, Raylan didn't say a word. Every once in a while, he would let out a pent up sigh. Winona could tell what he really wanted was to be alone, hard to do in a moving car. She gave him his space, some silence, so that he could think about what he just learned. How she wished she hadn't gone through that box.

_(To be continued …)_


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 13_

_Changes_

"There's Gayle's car," Winona pointed as they pulled in past the sign that read _Bethel House._ The building was mostly brick with brightly painted wood framing around the doors and windows. The grounds were neat and well-tended. There were tulips and daffodils lining the walkways and two lilac bushes about to burst into bloom beside the front door.

Winona unhooked Willa's carrier from the car and turned to Raylan who was leaning against the hood, staring out at the road that led back to Lexington, and past that, Harlan. "Aren't you coming?" She caught his sideways glance at the trunk. She could tell he was anxious to look at the rest of the contents of that box for any information it might hold about the sister he never knew.

"You can't go through it here in the parking lot," she said. "When we get back to the hotel, you can bring the whole thing in, and we'll go through it together. Maybe we can find something more."

"I hate rest homes," he said. "I had to go lookin' for this guy one time – he'd walked off a work detail outta the minimum security prison outside of Dallas – and he'd gone straight to see his mama who was in one of these places over in Austin. Ended up chasin' him all through the place. I arrested him right in the middle of the weekly Bingo game. I had a dozen old folks pissed as hell and throwin' food at me. At least I think it was food. Thing I remember most though is the smell."

Winona sighed. "This isn't a nursing home, Raylan. It's an assisted living. Daddy has his own apartment, for now. When he can't take care of himself anymore, then he'll move to the nursing home." She pointed. "It's back there."

Raylan looked, squinting, then turned back to her, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth. "Didya' see what else is back there, just beyond the rest home?"

"No," Winona said, her attention on Willa.

"The cemetery."

"I'm glad that amuses you."

"It's the circle of life," he joked. "Or the end of the circle, anyway."

"Come on," Winona said. "Let's go introduce Willa to her only grandfather, who probably won't remember tomorrow that he met her."

Raylan started to make a smart aleck reply along the lines of _Then, why bother?_ Then, he saw the expression on her face and remembered how she loved her father. When they first met, her daddy was the one she talked about, more than her mama. "You really want me to come in with you, don'tcha?"

She nodded, biting her lip. "But if you really don't want to..."

He held out a hand for the carrier, and she handed it over, linking her arm in his as they walked in. "Thank you," she murmured.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Inside, Raylan was pleasantly surprised. It didn't look like a medical facility at all, more like the lobby of an upscale apartment building or hotel. He'd bet the monthly rate here would strain his salary, but Winona's father could certainly afford it. A perky brunette whose tag read _Meghan Parks, recreation director, _showed them to Davis Reeves' room.

"Oh!" Meghan gushed as she led them to the right hallway. "What a _darling _baby! Mr. Reeves is just the sweetest man. We all love him here. I didn't even know he had another daughter. He isn't the best on facts like that, you know," she jabbered on as her heels clicked along the ceramic tiled floor.

Winona smiled tightly and nodded.

"His room is number 1786, down there on the left. He has a lovely view of the garden. Y'all have a nice visit."

Gayle answered the door at their knock. "Daddy," she called after greeting them. "Look who's here!"

Raylan had only met Winona's father once or twice during the six years they were married. They'd come for Christmas one time, and he'd stopped to visit at Glynco while they were living there. Raylan recalled him as an imposing man, tall, with a head of prematurely white hair and a perpetual tan. The man who shuffled out of the back to greet them was a stooped and faded version of that. He had the same blue eyes as his daughter, but today those eyes were clouded with uncertainty.

"Hi Daddy," Winona said. She approached and stood on tiptoe to kiss him softly on the cheek.

"Noni?" He looked at Gayle for confirmation, and she nodded. Reassured, he wrapped his younger daughter in a hug. "And who's this? No, wait. Gary, right? Your husband's name is Gary." He was obviously proud of himself for remembering.

"Daddy, this is Raylan," Winona said softly. "Gary is..."

"Gary died, Daddy," Gayle jumped in. "I told you that."

"Sorry." Davis Reeves tapped the side of his head with a finger. "It doesn't work as well as it used to. What did you say his name is?"

"Raylan, Daddy, Raylan Givens. And this is our daughter – your granddaughter – Willa."

He leaned in, gazing at the baby. "She's a beauty."

Willa picked that moment to open her eyes and yawn. Blinking, she stared up at her grandfather and gave him a slobbery grin. "She's a happy baby."

"Yes, she is," Winona agreed. "We're very lucky."

There was puzzlement in Davis' eyes as he turned them on Raylan. "Dammit, you're not Gary."

"Raylan," Winona whispered. "Try taking off your hat." She thought he might look a little friendlier without the intimidating Stetson.

Raylan promptly complied with her request.

"It's Raylan, Daddy." Winona tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. She set the carrier on the table and Willa fussed, tugging at the strap holding her in and Raylan reached over, unlatching it and lifting her out. He held her facing forward and she reached a chubby hand out toward her mama.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma!" she trilled.

"Why don't we go in here and sit down?" Gayle suggested. "Daddy?"

Their father looked at Gayle in alarm. "Where am I? Where's Marjorie? This isn't my house."

Gayle's eyes shifted to Winona, even as she held out a hand to steady her father. "This is how it goes. One minute he seems fine, the next, I'm a stranger holding him against his will."

"I had no idea it was this bad." Winona's eyes were filled with concern for both her sister and her father.

"His memory is steadily declining," Gayle explained. "It won't be long now before he's moved into the Memory Care wing of this facility. Thank God you and I won't have to make that decision. It will be up to his doctor. That's the way Daddy set it up in his Living Will."

"I hear you talking about me over there," the older gentleman was becoming agitated.

He put a gnarled finger up near Willa's face and said very sternly, "What are you looking at?"

His angry and confused tone reminded Raylan of Arlo in his final years. Willa burst into tears, and Raylan held her close and turned her away from Davis. Raylan leaned into Winona and said, "I think I'd best take her outside for a change of scenery."

Winona nodded, her face looking so sad. She had wanted a nice reunion with her father, and that was not what she was getting. She watched as Raylan quickly grabbed Willa's carrier seat and diaper bag and then left the apartment.

"Now, Daddy, I don't think you meant to scare the baby, but you did," Gayle tried to connect with him.

"What do we do when he gets like this?" Winona spoke softly to her sister.

"He's got some medicine to take, if I can get him to," Gayle said, heading for the kitchen. She pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked a cabinet. "Ah, here it is. The cabinet is locked so that he doesn't accidently take medication or an overdose. The nurse has a key and so do I." She sighed. "It's the last step before the memory unit, like I told you."

She poured her father one of his favorite root beers over ice and shook two tablets from a prescription bottle. "It's time for your medicine," she announced, approaching her father.

"It's _not_ time," he argued.

"See the clock?" Gayle persisted, pointing to the wall clock with the big numerals. "It is time, and I brought you a nice, cold root beer to wash it down."

Like a child, the mere mention of the words _root beer_ did the trick. Davis sat down in his recliner and compliantly swallowed the pills, chasing them with the root beer.

"I lucked out on that one," Gayle whispered to her sister. "He'll calm down in about fifteen to twenty minutes."

Winona was in awe of Gayle. She wouldn't have known what to do. And it bothered her that she was afraid of her father. She didn't blame Raylan one bit for wanting to get Willa out of there.

David just sat there, staring straight ahead. The silence gave the two sisters some time to talk.

"So …," Gayle began. "How is it going with Raylan? He seems to be a lot more comfortable with Willa."

Winona gave a tight lipped smile. "He's been great. He's good with her." She laughed softly. "Better than I thought he'd be, to tell you the truth. There have been little moments over the last day or so where I can see they are finally bonding."

"Well, that's good," her sister nodded. "The way it's supposed to be. I wasn't sure this was a good idea, just up and leaving her with him, but it looks like it's worked."

"I wasn't on board at first either," Winona reminded her. "I've got to give credit to Art for that." She paused. "Raylan talked me into staying longer," she shared. "We're just trying to figure things out."

Gayle walked over and sat closer to her sister on the worn flowered couch. "You've told me how things are going between Raylan and Willa. How are things going between the two of you? Have you _rekindled_ things yet?"

Winona chuckled. "Is that your way of asking me if we've had sex?"

Gayle smiled and nodded. "Well?" She prodded when Winona didn't answer right away.

Winona eyed her father, self-conscious about having this conversation in front of him, but his eyes had drifted closed. Still, she leaned closer to Gayle and lowered her voice. "We came _very_ close to it last night. Only problem was, I passed out from having too much wine to drink with dinner," she confessed. "And I had the _mother of all hangovers_ this morning to boot. But he was just great … with me … with the baby."

"You?" Gayle laughed. "Too much wine?"

"Well, I must admit I'm out of training after being pregnant and all," Winona laughed, too. "It was the first time I felt free to just be … since Willa was born."

"Hey," Gayle changed the subject. "I brought some homemade pimento cheese, Daddy's favorite. Would you like a bite to eat?"

"Oh, that sounds good," Winona stood and followed her sister to the kitchen to help. "I didn't eat that much this morning. And I am kind of hungry."

Working together in the small galley kitchen, the two assembled some sandwiches on a plate. Gayle brought some grapes and her father's favorite Lay's potato chips.

"I'll split one with you," Winona suggested, as Gayle carried a plate to their father. She shook him gently to wake him, offering him a refill on the root beer.

Soon, the three of them were eating lunch in the living room with their father. He was a lot calmer, a lot friendlier after his medication and his nap. Winona wished Raylan and Willa could see him like this. They had been gone for more than thirty minutes, and she texted Raylan, asking him where they were. He texted back that they would be there in about five more minutes.

He arrived as promised and was glad to see that things were better than when he and Willa had left. Winona noticed the pronounced smell of bourbon on his breath.

Leaning in close as she took Willa from him, she whispered, "You're sure in a much better mood than when you left here. Did you take our baby into a liquor store?"

"It was a drive through," he answered with a silly grin on his face. "And I didn't open the bottle until we got back here." When he saw she wasn't angry, the grin widened. "Didya' know there's a little park out there with benches and all? It's real pretty. I gave her a bottle and changed her. And Willa saw a butterfly." He fell silent and after a beat, he slipped his arm around her waist pulling her and Willa close. "By the way," he informed her. "You're drivin' us back."

"Well, yeah," she said. "I guess that's the least I can do after you took care of me last night and this morning.

The rest of the visit went amazingly well, so well that they were able to take pictures of everyone, including one of Willa, smiling on her grandfather's lap. The visit tired Davis out, though, and it was soon apparent to all that he'd had about enough for one day.

"I love you, Daddy," Winona said, stooping to hug her father while Raylan got a sleepy Willa buckled into the carrier.

"Love you, too, Punkin'." His eyes were clear and bright as he looked at her. "Don't be a stranger." He winked at her.

Winona stared at him. Had her father just made a joke at his own expense?

"Dad," Gayle giggled, happy with the way the afternoon was ending. "Let's get you settled in for a nap before they bring your dinner. I'm gonna head home, too, okay?"

"You go, all of you. Give an old man some peace and quiet."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

By the time Winona finished her goodbyes with Gayle, Raylan had clicked Willa's infant carrier its base in the backseat and climbed in beside her, holding the flask he'd emptied his bottle of Jack into. A stack of letters and loose photographs from the trunk were tucked in beside him.

Winona slid into the driver's seat and held her hand out. "Keys," she said. Raylan obliged, dropping them into her palm.

"Is she asleep?"

He glanced over at his daughter. "Just about. She's had a big day."

"So have I," Winona said. She met his eyes in the rearview mirror. "So have you."

Raylan grunted in reply and lifted the flask to his lips. He took a hard swallow, looked over at Willa, and said with a grin, "I'd offer ya' some, but you're much too young."

"You ready to talk?" Winona interrupted from the driver's seat after she backed out of the parking spot and began the drive back to the hotel.

Raylan's tall, lanky frame was sprawled out, legs stretched as far as the seat would allow. He flippantly avoided her question with another. "What would you like to talk about, Winona?"

Winona flashed him a frustrated look that said, _"You know exactly what I'm talkin' about."_ Instead, she thought it better to answer him with, "Tami Jo."

"We don't know anything other than a baby was born." He unscrewed the cap from the bottle of bourbon and took a swig from the bottle. "She could've died right after birth."

Winona shot him a look through the rear view mirror. "You shouldn't be drinking in the car, Marshal." Her words went in one of his ears and out the other. Changing the subject, she asked, "If she died, then, why doesn't she have a tombstone at Arlo's house along with the rest of you?"

"Because Arlo was a cheap son-of-a-bitch," he answered, his speech becoming slurred. "He never bought a thing he could swindle or steal outright. Arlo won those headstones in some kind of bet. Mine always scared the shit outta me." He looked over at his baby girl. "Sorry," he said to Willa. "I'm tryin' to watch my mouth around you. I really am."

"It must be hard to learn that both of your parents lied to you," Winona offered. "I'm sorry, Raylan."

"I always knew Arlo was a liar," he took another sip. "But it looks like my mama was, too." _And Helen_, he thought to himself. _How much did she know? All of it, most likely. She and mama were like two peas in a pod. Too bad she was dead._ _Too bad they were all dead. _He took another long swig from the flask until he realized it was gone. _Shit._ There wasn't enough booze in that flask to make whatever he was feeling go away – hell, there wasn't enough in the state of Kentucky. He glanced over at Willa, head lolling to one side and flicked his eyes to Winona, concentrating on the road ahead. With a sigh, he pulled the hat down over his eyes and drifted off.

Winona decided not to be cross with Raylan for drinking and passing out on her. Instead, she was grateful to have some time alone with her thoughts on the 90 minute drive back to Lexington. She was losing her father. Intellectually, she knew that Gayle had been trying to prepare her for the inevitability since their father's diagnosis. But to see the once indestructible Davis Reeves up close, to see him faltering with her own eyes, was something entirely different. It was something for which she wasn't really prepared. She wondered if anything ever truly prepared you for losing a beloved parent. This afternoon with the small moments she was able to catch glimpses of the father she knew and loved, was very precious to her. Tears welled in her eyes. She cried because she knew it was the last time she'd ever see him the way she wanted to always remember him, and she cried because Willa would never know him. She cried for Gayle, who had to deal with it every day, and for her father, who knew what was happening and was powerless to stop it.

Miles further down the Expressway, Raylan softly snored behind her, the way he always did when had a little too much to drink. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see his jaw relaxed and his mouth slightly ajar, underneath the wide brim of his hat.

As the road wound out behind them, Winona thought to herself, _how could their lives have changed so much in the span of a single day? Weren't things already complicated enough?_ She was losing her beloved Daddy, and Raylan seemingly lost the love or at least the trust he held for his mother and his Aunt Helen. More than ever, she needed Raylan, and she wanted for him to acknowledge that he needed her, too … for him to want to make a real family of their own for Willa and for each other.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter 14_

_The Box_

Back at the hotel, as Raylan slept off his little tie on, Winona fed Willa some green beans and peaches for dinner and warmed up some of the leftovers from Giuseppe's for herself in the microwave, saving the rest for Raylan. The baby was sticky from her meal, so Winona gave Willa a little bath, put her in a sleeper, and read her the story, _'Goodnight Moon.'_ She nursed her baby until she was fast asleep, then she gently placed Willa in the crib and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Winona hummed softly as she lathered up her skin with a lemongrass shower gel she bought at the spa. Raylan had commented that he really liked it on her. As she shaved her legs, all she could think about was how much she wanted to start their lives together, again.

When she emerged from the steamy bathroom wrapped in one of the fluffy hotel towels, Raylan was gone. His gun remained on the nightstand, so she knew he couldn't have gone far. Willa slept peacefully. Winona dimmed the lights in the room. She was seated at the table, rubbing lotion into her arms and legs, when Raylan returned, carrying the box from the trunk of his car.

"I was hoping you'd be up when I got out of the shower." The towel began to slip, and she did nothing to halt its slow slide off her body.

"Oh, my," Raylan said at the sight of her, stopped in his tracks.

He walked over to the table and placed the box on top. Winona looked up at him. Their eyes locked and he approached her. Without a word, she began to unbuckle his belt, quickening his breath.

"I'm afraid I had too much to drink," he said in an almost whisper, as she proceeded to unbutton the top button of his jeans.

Never breaking their gaze, she stood, letting the towel fall to the floor as she slowly opened his zipper and slipped her hand inside his jeans. His knees almost buckled at her touch. "You don't have anything to worry about, Cowboy," she purred, referring to his response.

Raylan brushed her hair off the side of her face with the tips of his fingers. "As much as I want to, I think we should wait until I'm not so drunk. I want this first time to be special … for you."

"I think we've waited long enough," she murmured in his ear, still stroking him. She tugged at his jeans with her free hand until they slid past his hips. "Do you have a condom in your wallet?"

Groaning softly, he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, grabbed it and tore the package open, and handed her the prophylactic which she skillfully rolled onto him.

Perched on her tiptoes, she pressed her pelvis into his and brought his hand up to her breast, her eyes glistening. Looking down at her gorgeous cleavage, Raylan brushed his thumb over her nipple and she smothered her gasp against his neck. The last thing she wanted was to wake Willa. Raylan leaned down and went in for a kiss, his mouth covering hers. Their tongues met as he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Never breaking their kiss, Raylan carried her to the bed and gently lay her down on her back. He toed off his boots, and she helped him wriggle all the way out of his jeans and boxer briefs.

He reached his hand in between them and stroked her. She writhed against him, making soft little moans muffled against his mouth. Raising himself over her, he slowly entered her fully in one motion. It was like coming home.

Winona gasped, taking him in. "Don't move. Please," she begged, wanting to savor the moment.

But he had to. He moved at a slow deliberate pace, extending their desire for as long as he could until she began to match his every movement. The familiar dance was even better than either remembered, and they continued until it built into an explosive, shuddering climax.

They lay quiet in each other's arms, her head on his chest. After some time, she lazily slid her hand down his stomach, teasing him with her fingers. His chest rumbled as he chuckled.

"You do remember what we got the last time you went for a victory lap, don'tcha'?" He poked her in the ribs.

She leaned up on one elbow, looked over at Willa, still sleeping in the port-a-crib, and back to Raylan. "You _do _have another condom, don't you?"

"I might." A grin twitched at his mouth.

"Well, if you don't," she said, planting a kiss on his chest. "There are things that don't require..." she slipped lower, kissing the flat plane of his stomach, then his hip. "Protection." She smiled up at him before making her final descent.

After he reciprocated, he held her close until she drifted off to sleep. Raylan, on the other hand, was unable to stop thinking about a sister he might or might not have. He rolled and tossed, restless. Not wanting to wake Winona or the baby, he slipped out of bed, pulling on his jeans and a t-shirt. He grabbed the box he'd taken from the trunk of the car and snagged a coke from the mini fridge. For once, the whiskey on the dresser didn't even tempt him. He wanted to be clear-headed for this. In the bathroom, he closed the door quietly before switching on the light. He sat the box on the floor and sat down beside it, lifting out the first thing that caught his eye, the battered family Bible.

The cover was cracked and faded, the pages inside thin as tissue paper. Raylan opened the book to the center where the heavier pages displayed the Givens family tree. His grandmother and his mama had been diligent in keeping track of the births and deaths. He ran his finger down the page, finding his own name and birth-date, right under his parents' names. There were no other births there, and no deaths recorded after his mother's, in Helen's broad scrawl.

The baby must have died. Nothing else would explain her name not being in the Bible. His mother had probably been so upset that she didn't even want to acknowledge the birth, so upset that the child was never mentioned. That had to be it. He sighed and started to close the book when his thumb slid across a rough spot in the paper.

"Well I'll be damned," he muttered, peering closer. Something had been erased. He held out the single page up closer towards the ceiling light, where he could see through the paper and passed the erasure. _Tami Jo Givens_, he said to himself. _Date of birth: January 29, 1972._

He went back to the box, carefully examining each item. There were recipe cards, two of Raylan's favorites: his mother's strawberry pie with a whipped cream frosting and Helen's jam cake. Those were definite keepers. A pair of mother-of-pearl hair barrettes, the kind his mama always wore. The deed to the property out on Indian Line. A silver locket.

The tarnished locket hung from an equally tarnished silver chain and was so tiny, it took him several minutes using his fingernail to pry it open. It contained an oval picture of a newborn baby. The baby in the locket had a full head of dark hair and didn't look at all like him. He continued to rummage through the box until he came up on some paycheck stubs. "Noble's Holler?" he spoke softly to himself. There were several more of the handwritten paycheck stubs, each for exactly $200.00 and made out to Francis Givens. Off to the side, there was a written notation that said,_ "plus tips."_

"Limehouse," Raylan uttered out loud, remembering remarks the hog butcher had made about his mother. Looking at the picture of the dark-haired baby again, he also recalled Arlo's comment. "Your mother was Frances, not Saint Francis."

He held onto the locket and the pay stubs and scooped up everything else and placed them back inside the box. Quietly, he went back into the room and found a clean Henley in his stack of clean laundry, slipping it on over his head. He then retrieved his boots, his hat, and his gun.

"Raylan?" Winona stirred, opening an eye.

"Go back to sleep," he said. "I'll bring us back some breakfast."

She glanced at her cell on the night stand in the darkness of their room, illuminated only by the light coming from the bathroom. "It's 4:30 in the morning. The restaurant doesn't open until 6:00."

"I found somethin'," He came clean. "About Tami Jo."

"What did you find?" she asked, raising herself up on her elbow and keeping her voice down so as not to wake Willa.

"Somethin' that leads me straight to Noble's Holler."

Her brow furrowed. That name sounded so familiar. Then, it came to her. "Isn't that where that man's arm got chopped off?" The concern on her face was apparent even in the dark.

"Yep. One in the same," he said, securing his gun.

"You _are_ going to call for back up, right?" she asked.

"Winona, this is personal," he pointed out. "I can't ask the Marshal Service for back up on this one."

Winona knew it would be useless to counter that Tim and Rachel, and even Art, were friends as well as co-workers and might be more than willing to help him, if he asked. "Well, then," she said. "I'm going with you." And she pulled off her covers and sat up on the edge of the bed.

"No … you're not," Raylan said, keeping his voice low. "You stay here with Willa. I'll be back soon. I promise."

"Well, she can come, too," Winona was very matter-of-fact.

"I don't think bringin' our baby into Noble's Holler is such a good idea."

"Why?" Winona stood, heading for the bathroom. "It might make you appear to be … human? A family man?" She stood in front of the bathroom vanity, loaded her toothbrush with toothpaste, and began to brush.

Raylan approached her at the bathroom door with his hands on his hips. "You're not goin'."

As she brushed, she turned to him and said defiantly, "Fine, then. You go running off to this place by yourself, and I'm calling Art!"

Raylan stood there, shaking his head. "You would do that?"

"You know I would," she countered while still brushing at a double time pace.

After a moment of silence he finally said, "Fine," in a surrendered tone that let her know it really wasn't fine.

Winona roused a sleepy Willa, nursed, changed, and dressed her. Then, she handed the baby over to Raylan and got herself ready in record time. It had been a long time since he had seen his lady in jeans, but she wore them today, with a crisp white shirt, boots, and her new earrings. She ran a brush through her hair, leaving it down, and began to hastily toss supplies into the open diaper bag.

Raylan watched, leaning on the dresser, holding the baby against his chest. "I can't talk you outta this?"

"Nope." She grabbed Willa's monkey and threw it into the diaper bag. "You said it yourself. This is a _personal_ visit."

"You and Willa could go shoppin'," he suggested, unyielding in his desire to go to Noble's Holler alone so that he could kick up some shit with Limehouse. "Maybe go see Leslie. Art said she'd love to see the baby. You could have lunch. I'd be back by..."

Winona whirled around. "Did last night mean anything to you?"

Dumbfounded, Raylan stared at her, not seeing the connection.

She shook her head at his cluelessness. "Do you want this to work? Do you want us to be a family? Because if you do, then we share things. The good and the bad. And if you don't? Well, I can change my ticket again, and Willa and I will go back to Miami and leave you be." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Is that what you want?"

He unconsciously clutched his daughter tighter. "No," he said, taking a deep breath. He slid his hat on and stooped to pick up the carrier, then looked her in the eyes. "Are you ready?"

Winona held his gaze for a moment; then, realizing that was as much of an admission as she was going to get for now, she nodded.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	16. Chapter 16

_Chapter 15_

_An Old Woman Named Foxy_

Three men with guns stepped out of the shadows and stood on the bridge.

"Raylan," Winona's voice carried a tinge of panic. "What's going on?" She glanced in the back where Willa was happily gumming a set of rubber keys, one hand clutching the ever-present monkey.

"They're just Limehouse's security system," Raylan said, pushing the button to lower the window. "Hello, gentlemen. I'm here to see Elstin Limehouse."

Two of the men planted themselves in front of the Lincoln, rifles in hand. The other man, tallest of the three, came closer, dropping his gun to his side. "Who're you, and why do you wanna see Mr. Limehouse?"

"I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens," he said. "And I'm here to get the end of a story he was tellin' me awhile back."

That got him a quizzical look, and the man pulled out a phone, turning his back to them. There was murmuring and then he turned again, glancing into the car. "No, he ain't alone. Got a lady and a baby with him. Yessir, Mr. Limehouse. I'll tell 'im."

"He says he ain't got time for you today," the man relayed the message.

Raylan's jaw twitched, and he grinned. "You might wanna tell your friends there to move." He pointed a finger and gunned the motor. "I'd hate for them to get hurt."

"Raylan! What are you doing?" Winona hissed at him.

Staring straight ahead he shifted the car into drive and it shot forward, barely missing the two men, one of whom almost dived over the side of the bridge to avoid the Lincoln. Winona swiveled in the seat to stare back at the men as they scrambled to their feet. "You almost hit them!"

"I knew they were gonna move." He maneuvered the car around the curve in the road and up the steep hill that led to Limehouse's storefront.

Winona stared at him. "Your daughter is in the back seat and you just..."

"Can we not do this right now?" Raylan pleaded. "There's no way I was gonna turn around and leave without talkin' to the man. Wouldja rather I shot 'em?"

"No! Of course not." Winona took a deep breath. Laying a hand on his arm she continued. "I know you want to find out all you can about your sister, but maybe we should..." 

"Winona, let me handle this, okay?" He slowed the Lincoln as a cluster of buildings appeared ahead. "Limehouse isn't gonna hurt us. That's not what he's about. He's about controlling information. Anything goes on in these hills, he knows about it, you can bet on that."

"And you think he knows about Tami Jo?"

"Those pay stubs I found? My mama musta worked here. Probably one of the times she ran away from Arlo. According to the dates, I woulda been less than a year old."

"Do you think you were here with her?" Winona looked behind her again, checking on Willa and also making sure that the men Raylan almost ran over weren't following them.

"Unless she left me with Helen, where else would I be?"

"I can't imagine leaving without Willa," Winona said.

Raylan wondered if his mama had indeed, left without him. She obviously had later. That memory was clear, though he rarely allowed himself to think about it. He pulled up to the front of the restaurant and turned off the ignition. After sliding the hat back on, he handed the keys to Winona. "Hold onto these," he said. "Just in case." He opened the door and Winona opened hers at the same time.

"Now, wait just one minute," he said, pointing a finger at her. "You and Willa are not comin' in here with me. You can wait in the car."

"I am not going to sit here in the car, and Willa needs to get out of that car-seat for a bit." She looked around. "There's a bench, over there, under that tree. We can sit there." Not waiting for a response, she unbuckled the baby from the carrier and picked her up, resting her on her hip. Willa gave a sleepy yawn and grabbed a fistful of her mama's hair.

"Alright," Raylan said, relenting. "But stay out here. I don't want you inside while I'm talkin' to Limehouse."

Winona rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Raylan." She grabbed a diaper out of the bag and disappeared as she bent to lay Willa on the backseat and change her.

The heavy wooden screen creaked noisily as Raylan pushed it open. Limehouse appeared from the back, wiping his hands on a towel and glaring. "Thought I told you I had no time for stories today, Marshal."

Raylan nodded. "That you did." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Or _they _did."

"Don't listen very well, do ya?" 

"No, I guess I don't." He pulled the locket and the pay stubs out of his pocket and lay them on the counter. "I never knew my mama worked here."

"You don't know everything, Marshal."

"Was she livin' here then?"

"For a bit," Limehouse said. He poured two cups of coffee and came around the counter, heaving his bulk onto a stool. He indicated the one beside him, and after a moment, Raylan reluctantly sat, swiveling on the stool so he could still spy Winona, sitting on the bench with Willa on her lap.

Limehouse followed his gaze. "You got you a nice little family there. Baby girl?"

Raylan nodded, sipping the coffee. It was black and carried the strong flavor of chicory.

Noting the look on Raylan's face, the older man pushed the sugar and cream across the counter. "It's an acquired taste," he chuckled. Then, his expression turned serious. "Your daddy was in jail. You was an itty baby in diapers, not that much older'n your baby, and your mama needed money. She'd been here once before, takin' off on Arlo, so I guess she felt more comfortable askin' me for a job than someone down in Harlan. 'Sides, she probably didn't want yo daddy to find out, seein' as it'd just give him another reason to knock her around."

Picking the locket open, he slid it across to Limehouse. "Was she pregnant while she was workin' here?"

Pawing his face with a hand he took a moment to answer. "Somethin' happened. I don't know what. Somethin' brought her here, even though your daddy was in jail. I had no problem with it. Franny was a good worker and you were too little to be any trouble at all. I suspected she was pregnant, but I never knew for sure."

"You sure she didn't _get _pregnant while she was here?" Raylan leveled his gaze at the other man.

"That baby look black to you?" Limehouse countered.

"I dunno," Raylan answered, moving the open locket across the bar towards the hog butcher, with an extended index finger.

Limehouse chuckled. "She got a headful of dark, curly hair. But I wouldn't call it nappy. Looks nothin' like you. You was a towhead." He turned around to take a look at Winona and Willa out the window. "Like yo' baby girl."

Raylan sighed, in no mood for Limehouse's mental gymnastics. "So … that would be a no?"

"Looks like a white baby to me," Limehouse sneered, sliding the locket back towards Raylan. "You wanna know if you gotta illegitimate brotha or sister, hmmm, Marshal? And you assume that must be a black baby, one that would have to disappear?"

"I don't know what I think, Elstin," Raylan answered, as he carefully put the locket in the front pocket of his Levi jacket. "Maybe she died. Her name was written in the family Bible and then erased. Anyone who could tell me anything is dead and gone. The only other thing I could find were the pay stubs. I'm followin' my leads such as they are. And they lead me to you."

"A woman with an illegitimate baby back in those days was a pitiful thing. 'specially in a small town like Harlan."

Losing his patience, Raylan cut him off. "Would money change your flow of information?"

Elstin shook his head. "This kinda information I'd give ya for free if I had it. All's I know is that your mama asked to stay here for a spell and worked for her keep and yours. When her sister got back, she said her thank yous and left. I didn't see her again until years later, and I 'spect you remember what I toldja about that."

"When her sister got back," Raylan said, repeating Limehouse's words. "Where was she?"

The man shrugged. "I don't rightly know. Seems to me she was off somewhere..." he paused. "Foxy might remember somethin'." He sat down his cup and slid off the stool. "Come with me."

Ready to grasp at any information that might fill in the gaps in his family history, Raylan followed Limehouse out the back and down a narrow alley flanked by small neat cabins. Several rows down he stopped and knocked loudly on a rough wooden door. When there was no answer he turned the knob. "She's deaf as a stump," he said.

"Foxy?" He shouted into the dark interior. "Purt near blind, too," he said to Raylan. "Gets around well enough for ninety-two though. Foxy!"

There was a shuffling and a crackling voice called out. "Hold your pants on Elstin, I'm a comin'."

The face of the woman who appeared in the doorway reminded Raylan of one of those wizened wrinkled apple-headed dolls that sat in the parlors of his mama's friends. She had a sparse sprinkling of snow-white hair pulled back in a bun and wire rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Stooped and leaning on a cane, the top of her head didn't even reach his shoulder.

"Foxy, this here is Raylan Givens, Franny's boy."

"Franny Givens?" Foxy pursed her lips. "She's dead."

"Yessm, she is."

Raylan huffed a breath, one hand on his hip. He was losing patience. This old woman probably didn't know anything.

"You remember when Franny was here workin'. Had a baby with her?"

The woman squinted and pointed a bony finger at Raylan. "Him. All grown up now." She opened the door wider. "You might as well come on in."

"I don't have time to..." Raylan started, but Limehouse laid a hand on his arm, drawing him into the tiny cabin.

The interior was small, but neat as a pin. Foxy kept a surprisingly immaculate house. "Sit," she said, taking a seat herself in a rocking chair near the one window. Limehouse sat in one of the wooden chairs around the small table, but Raylan remained standing, leaning against the table and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Your mama was as good a waitress as I've ever seen," She said.

"Foxy was our cook for years," Limehouse explained to Raylan.

"She could bus a table and reset it before you could say 'Jackie Robinson'." The old woman shook her head. "Whaddaya wanna know? Speak up, now. Sometimes I have trouble hearin'."

Raylan half shouted. "Do ya' know why she came here?"

The old woman raised an eyebrow. "Which time?"

"It would've been the second time," Raylan surmised since Limehouse mentioned she'd been here before, runnin' from Arlo. He pulled out the locket, once again, and opened it with his finger nails. "Do ya' remember my mother havin' another baby? One younger than me?"

With shaky hands, Foxy took the locket from him. "Oh, son," she shook her head and handed it back. "I can't see that."

"Foxy," Limehouse bellowed. "Do ya' remember Franny workin' here that first time bein' with child?"

"Why do ya' want to know?" She glared at Raylan, her eyebrow arched once more, figuring if he didn't know anything by now, maybe that was the way Franny wanted it.

"Look," Raylan continued to raise his voice so Foxy could hear him. "Arlo's dead. He can't hurt mama any more. I have no immediate kin left alive. I'm tryin' to find out if I had … or have … a sister." He slid the locket back in his pocket.

The woman studied Raylan for a moment, but that moment lasted too long. Raylan stood up straight and said, "I appreciate the try, Elstin, but I need to get back to Winona and the baby. I've been gone long enough. Ma'm." He tipped his hat to the old woman and turned on his heel towards the screen door.

"She was with child," Foxy finally offered.

Stopped in his tracks, Raylan turned back around. "What can ya' tell me about it?"

"Well, it wasn't her husband's," the old woman elaborated. "He was servin' time for armed robbery, and she was in hidin'."

"In hidin' from who?" Raylan's eyes became very narrow.

"I dunno ," she answered. "I didn't want to get into the middle o' her mess. I had messes of my own."

Raylan shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "What I don't understand is … where was her sister durin' that time? My Aunt Helen? She would've surely helped out my mama."

"I 'member your mama tellin' me her sista' took off cross country with a long haul truck driver," Foxy recalled. "She was tryin' to get outta Harlan. Everyone was tryin' to get out of Harlan 'cept us folks here in Noble's Holler."

_Could that be true? _Raylan asked himself. _Is that why Aunt Helen was so hell bent on me leavin' Harlan? Because she once tried to leave herself but didn't make it out?_

"Is there anythin' else you can tell me about her baby? My sister?" He actually used the word 'sister' in a real context for the very first time.

"So, she had a girl," the old woman smiled. "I never knew."

Limehouse flashed a toothy grin. "And I told ya' I didn't even know that much."

"Got any ideas who might know more?" Raylan asked.

"Not off the top o' my head," Limehouse said. "But I'll letcha' know if somethin' more comes to me. Foxy, thank ya' for lettin' us come in and reminisce witcha'. I think it's about time for yo' soap opera to come on."

Raylan had noticed satellite dishes on top of the row of cabins. Even Noble's Holler was on the cable and cell phone grids.

"I can't miss my story," the old woman showed some hustle, as she made her way to her TV set. "Sondra is marryin' her second husband … again."

Raylan screwed up his face.

"Don't ask," Limehouse remarked, as he opened the screen door and the two men let themselves out.

As they made the walk back to the smokehouse, Limehouse asked, "Wouldya' and yo' family like to come inside for some biscuits and red-eye gravy? Some pork chops and eggs? Ya' know, young Deputy Marshal Tim is a weekly regular 'round here for breakfast."

"Really?" Raylan asked, a little surprised Tim had never mentioned it before. "If it's all the same, I'll extend the invitation to my lady and let her make that decision."

"You is a smart man, Marshal," Limehouse offered.

"When it comes to women," Raylan countered, 'I'm not so sure about that. But I'm tryin'."

"Best any of us can do," the man chuckled.

The two parted ways when Limehouse went into the back of his diner and Raylan headed towards Winona. She looked none too happy.

_(To be continued . . . )_


	17. Chapter 17

_Chapter 16_

_Red Eye Gravy_

"You were gone long enough," Winona informed Raylan, as if he didn't already know.

"Are ya' hungry?" Raylan asked, changing the subject. "Mr. Limehouse asked if we'd like to stay for a country breakfast."

That didn't sound like Raylan when he was on an investigation. "Why?" she asked. "Didn't you find out what you wanted to know?"

Raylan helped her gather Willa's things and place them back in the diaper bag. "My mama was pregnant when she worked here. And she said her baby wasn't Arlo's. A cook, an old woman who worked with my mama, remembered her. She says my mama was here, hiding out from someone. It wasn't Arlo 'cause he was in prison."

"Then, who was it?" Winona asked, looking up from the bench, placing Willa back into her carrier seat.

"They don't know," Raylan answered. "Or they're not gonna say."

Raylan picked up the carrier. "Breakfast?"

"Okay. Sure." She nodded. "I could eat something."

"I thought I'd call Tim," Raylan said, walking towards Limehouse's establishment. "There's one other place I could poke around for some information, but you and Willa can't come with me. I figure I'll bring sharpshooter Tim as my backup."

"You're learning," Winona smiled. "You know damn well that's the only way I'd let you go anyplace that's not okay for me and Willa to be."

Raylan held open the screen door of the diner, and the three of them took a seat at a booth off to the side. He placed Willa's carrier on the seat next to her mama.

The bar was full of what seemed to be regulars. A waitress came over with two glasses of water and gave them a menu to share.

Quickly scanning the short breakfast menu, Winona said to the waitress, "I'll take your biscuits and gravy with the gravy on the side. And some eggs, over easy, with grits and a side of sliced tomatoes."

Raylan smiled. "I bet you haven't had grits in a long time,"

"No, I haven't," she agreed.

"I'll have the eggs with pork chops," he said to the waitress, "and a cup of coffee." He wasn't so much a fan of Limehouse's chicory coffee, but he figured it was going to be a long drive back to Lexington.

"Make that two," Winona chimed in on the coffee. "You wouldn't have anything for our little one would you?"

"Well, we have scrambled eggs, some plain grits, and peaches," she suggested.

"Thank you. How about some grits for her with the peaches?" Winona asked, handing the girl the menu.

"Comin' right up," the waitress answered and left the two to talk.

"So, where are you going next?"

"Not far from here," Raylan said. The waitress brought their coffee and he waited for her to pour and leave before going on. "If you don't mind, I'll step outside and give Tim a call, see when he can meet me."

"Go on ahead," Winona said. "I'm gonna call Gayle and check on Daddy."

Her call to her sister went to voice mail, and after leaving a message, Winona looked out the window, watching Raylan pace, gesturing in the air to no one as he talked to Tim on the cell. After a few minutes he pocketed the phone and headed back in.

He slipped into the booth with a sigh. "Well, shit," he said, then cast an apologetic look at his daughter.

"What?" Winona sipped her coffee, and Raylan took note that she'd uncharacteristically loaded it with cream to mask the earthy tang of the chicory.

"Tim's up to his ass in paperwork and Art's on the warpath. No way can he get away today. He said maybe tomorrow."

"What about Rachel?" Winona reached for the sugar and dumped a generous spoonful into her cup as Raylan chuckled.

"I'm not sure Rachel would be welcome where I'm goin'."

"Ah," Winona nodded. "Because she's female or because she's black?"

He shrugged. "These people don't cotton to outsiders. Tim's been there before."

The waitress returned with two small bowls of grits and peaches. "I thought you might like to feed the baby 'fore you get yours," she said, setting them on the table. "Sorry, we don't have any high chairs. Don't get many little ones in here."

"It's not a problem," Winona said, giving her a smile. She turned the carrier to face her and gave the baby a spoonful of peaches. Willa smacked her lips and grinned.

"She likes those," Raylan noted.

"Let's try some grits." She went in with the spoon and Willa leaned forward, opening her mouth. The minute the grainy porridge was in however, she pushed it out with her tongue, making a raspberry, and spraying tiny bits of grits all over her mama's white blouse.

"Oh, nice," she tried not to laugh. "Now, I'm going to have to go back to the hotel to change before I go see my sister."

"I'd take that as a no go on the grits," Raylan grinned. "Best to stick with the peaches."

"Raylan, don't smile at her," she reprimanded him. "You don't want to give her any positive reinforcement for spitting food … although I had to bite my tongue to keep from smiling."

"'cause it was funny," he bit his lip to wipe the grin off his face. He looked at his baby girl and, after he had composed himself, he slowly stuck the tip of his tongue out at Willa.

The baby watched her dad has he stuck his tongue out of his mouth, and put it back in. Stuck it out, and put it back in. In a moment's time, Willa parroted his move. Raylan smiled at her as they played their little game.

"Raylan?" Winona was not very pleased.

"At least she's not spitting food," he pointed out, sticking his tongue out at her again.

The next time Willa parroted his move, she smiled a wide toothless grin and said, "Gee."

"I can't believe of all the things, the first thing you teach her is to stick out her tongue," Winona shook her head, but she was smiling at the interaction between them.

"Well, you're welcome," he continued to play the game with his baby. "It's the least I could do."

The waitress brought their food and Winona stared at the plate piled high with biscuits. "I'm not going to eat for a week," she groaned.

Raylan dug in to his pork chop. "I'm sure we can think of somethin' to do to burn those calories off." He raised an eyebrow and she blushed.

"Stop." She scooped some gravy onto a biscuit, cut a piece, and popped it into her mouth. "Ummm," she said. "This is fantastic."

"Y'all enjoyin' your breakfast?" Elstin asked, hovering over them, coffee cup in hand.

"Yes, it's wonderful," Winona said.

"I don't believe I've made your acquaintance," he said, casting a disapproving glance at Raylan. "Elstin Limehouse."

"Winona Hawkins."

"And who's this little one?"

"That's my daughter, Willa," Raylan said.

"Nice to meet you, Willa." He waved a finger and Willa grabbed at it, then stuck her tongue out, giving Limehouse a perfect raspberry. Laughter rumbled out of the man, and he shook his head. "You best be watchin' out with this one, Marshal. She's gonna give ya' a run for yo' money." He tipped his hat to Winona. "Ma'am."

"What now?" Winona asked after he was gone and they'd eaten as much as they could. "Head back for the hotel?"

"I guess so," he said. "I could honestly use a nap. Didn't sleep last night."

Her smile widened. "Well, you should have. You certainly got enough exercise."

Raylan returned the smile, but it faded quickly. "I couldn't stop my mind, thinkin' that I had a sister all this time."

Winona reached across the table and took his hand. "If she's alive, you'll find her."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Winona pulled into a parking space near the side door to the hotel and tapped Raylan's shoulder gently. About ten miles out of Harlan the lack of sleep had gotten the better of him. He'd pulled the car over and asked her to drive before he fell asleep at the wheel.

"Huh? What?" He stirred, sleepily, shook his head and ran a hand over his face.

"You had a nice long nap," Winona said.

"Thanks for takin' over."

"I didn't mind," she said.

Raylan craned his neck, peering into the backseat. Willa stared back at him and slowly stuck her tongue out. He replied to his baby in kind.

Winona watched in the rearview. "You know, you've created a monster."

"It's cute." He defended himself.

She rolled her eyes. "Talk to me about how cute it is when she's thirteen."

"As long as you don't teach her that eye-roll, we'll be fine."

"I'm pretty sure the eye-roll comes with the package." She opened the door and slid out, reaching into the back for the diaper bag. "Can you grab her?"

"Sure." He unbuckled his daughter and lifted her out, tucking her against his chest. She reached up for the hat. "Da-da-da-da-da," she trilled, grabbing it with a chubby fist and tugging.

"Nope. Not the hat," Raylan admonished, taking it off and holding it in his free hand. Willa pouted for a moment, then lay her head against his shoulder. By the time they walked to the elevator and reached the room, she was asleep in her Daddy's arms.

"Good," Winona said, as Raylan lay the baby on her back in the crib. "She didn't sleep in the car, and she's cranky when she doesn't get a nap." She tossed the diaper bag on the dresser and toed off her boots.

"I got a nap," Raylan said, stepping up to her and sliding his hands up under her shirt. His fingers skimmed along the soft skin of her stomach and upward, teasing her breasts through the satiny fabric of her bra. He pressed his lips to her ear. "I'm not cranky at all," he murmured.

She stretched up, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissed him. They fell together onto the bed, tugging and pulling at clothing and tossing it onto the floor. Winona took charge this time, straddling him, lowering herself inch by agonizing inch as he looked up at her with dark eyes. They made love slowly, tenderly, mesmerized by each other.

In the afterglow, Raylan held Winona close in his arms, and she snuggled into his chest. Raylan's phone rang, and he grabbed it, turning off the ringer before it woke the baby. Glancing at the display, it was a text from Tim.

"Yes 4 2MOR. TG Art's N meetings. Nelson will cover. SUITM."

Raylan texted back, "Tx." He returned his phone to the nightstand and resumed his embrace, speaking low in Winona's ear, "Looks like Tim can go with me tomorrow mornin', after all."

"Good," she hugged him back. "I'll try again with Gayle before we take off tomorrow evening."

His arms tightened around her at the thought of her leaving. "Do ya' _have_ to go back tomorrow?"

Planting a tender kiss on his chest, she looked up at him. "We have to go back some time. Mama's expecting us. We're out of clothes. I need to pay some bills. Willa has an appointment with her pediatrician." She looked away. "I don't want to leave, but I have to … at least to check in on things."

"We never did figure out what we're doin'," Raylan nuzzled into her ear. "The logistics of it all."

He stroked her hair, then her breast. Reaching over the nightstand, he grabbed a new condom and opened the package, rolled it on, and shifted his weight until he was on top of her. She reached up and gently brushed his hair out of his eyes. He turned his head and kissed her hand.

"We figured out we want to be together," she spoke softly, as she opened her legs, allowing him access. "I'd say that's progress."

He leaned down on his forearms and laid soft kisses down the side of her neck, and he cupped her breast in his hand. Her breath quickened. It wasn't long until she pressed her pelvis against him, signaling she was ready for more. He complied, giving her more, and he began to devour her breasts. She plunged her fingers into his hair, uttering soft moans of pleasure.

He built them up, then slowed them down. He did this again and again, teasing her and prolonging their lovemaking. As their climax built once more, she brought her knees up to make certain this time they would reach a mutual conclusion.

Breathless, Raylan collapsed on top of her and rolled onto his side of the bed. Winona snuggled into him.

"Winona?" he whispered, still out of breath.

"Yeah?" she answered after a beat of silence.

His eyes were closed, and he brought his arm to rest over this forehead. "Don't leave."

She responded by wrapping her arms around him. "Come with us."

"We always end up in this place," he continued to whisper. "One of us has to give in, or else we all lose."

"I know you think I'm in this to win," she said, "like it's some kind of a power struggle between you and me." She squeezed him tighter. "I just don't want Harlan to win."

"I don't want that, either."

"We'll figure this out. Willa and I can fly back here in a week or so," she offered. "Or you can come to Florida."

They lay there holding onto one another in silence. Raylan was right. They always returned back to this place between desire and hopelessness.

When they heard Willa stirring in her crib, they were both glad for the interruption.

"I'll get her," Raylan offered. He reached down on the floor, found his jeans, and slipped them on. He picked Willa up and passed her off to her mama. "Is it me, or does she feel a little warm to ya'?"

"I don't know," Winona said, sitting up in bed. "Maybe."

The blinds were closed, and it had become pretty dark in their room. Raylan turned on a lamp.

"Her cheeks are a little red," Winona noted. "Would you hand me a warm, wet wash cloth?"

"Sure," he answered and went into the bathroom where he ran warm water in the sink. He wet a clean wash cloth, squeezed out the excess water, and went back toward the bed and handed it to Winona.

She gently dabbed the cloth over Willa's face and then, wiped the wet cloth over her nipple. She offered her breast to Willa, but the baby turned her head.

"No, baby?" Winona was perplexed. "This child is always hungry."

"Do ya' think she's teethin' again?" Raylan asked.

"Could be," Winona said. "There's a thermometer in the diaper bag. Would you bring it to me, please?"

Raylan took the diaper bag into the bathroom where there was better light. "Ya' mean this?" he asked, marveling at the odd looking device.

"That's it. It's an ear thermometer."

He handed it over to her and watched as she aimed a beam of red light into the baby's ear.

"99.2," Winona reported the instant digital read out.

"You want the Tylenol, too?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head. "She's just a little warm, and she's not fussing. I don't like using it unless she really needs it."

Raylan walked back into the bathroom and dug into the bag and returned holding Willa's monkey.

"Hey, Willa," Raylan said. "Look at what I have."

The baby grinned and held her arms out for her beloved friend.

"Maybe we should stay in and keep an eye on her tonight, Daddy," Winona suggested. "She was up before the sun and had a big day."

"I could pick us up some Chinese," Raylan concurred. "You want your usual?"

"Oh, yes," she smiled. "And an extra egg roll?"

"You got it," he said.

Raylan first headed for the bathroom for a quick shower. He emerged, quickly dressed, brushed his teeth, and gathered up his wallet and car keys … his gun. "I'll be back in a bit."

While Raylan was gone, Winona touched base with her sister, making tentative plans to meet up the next morning for coffee and asking advice on how to care for Willa. Gayle suggested she have some Pedialyte on hand so Willa would not become dehydrated.

After Winona disconnected the call with her sister, she called Raylan and asked him to stop by a pharmacy and pick up some Pedialyte. She then gave Willa a lukewarm bath and changed her into a fresh diaper and sleeper. When Raylan returned, she asked him to fill a bottle with a few ounces of Pedialyte. Not knowing whether to get the grape or the orange flavored, he bought both. He filled her a bottle with the grape and brought it over to Winona.

Winona looked up at him. "You two are all cleaned up," she sighed. "I sure would like a shower, too."

"Here," he smiled. "Give her to me."

Winona handed him the burp towel which he placed over his shoulder, followed by Willa and then, her bottle.

"Thank you," she said, bending down to give him a peck on the lips.

"You're welcome," he said and turned his attention to Willa.

The sweetness of the Pedialyte got the baby's attention, and she took the bottle. Pleased at this sight, Winona proceeded to the bathroom.

She came out a little while later, brushed her teeth and hair, and applied lotion to her arms and legs, hands and feet. She then put on panties and a t shirt and pulled her hair back off her face. "How's she doing?"

"She's just about asleep," he said in a very low voice. "She drank all of this stuff."

"Good," Winona nodded. "Maybe she'll feel better in the morning."

As Raylan placed a sleeping Willa back in the crib, Winona went to the table and began unloading their takeout out of the bag. She grabbed two plates from the kitchenette and placed them on the table, along with silverware. Raylan joined her, taking a seat beside her.

The big country breakfast had long been worked off thanks to their _afternoon delight_, and both Raylan and Winona were famished. After inhaling their dinner and fortune cookies, Raylan went to the mini bar and cracked open a couple of beers, handing one to Winona.

"Thank you," she said, taking the beer and taking a pull on the long necked bottle that matched Raylan's.

"It's still early tonight," he noted after taking another pull, as he pushed his chair away from the table. "What would ya' like to do? Talk? Watch some TV?"

Winona picked up her beer, stood, and walked over towards him. Without a word, she straddled him seated in his chair, facing him, and lowered herself into his lap.

Surprised, Raylan said, "If ya' think you can get my motor runnin' again, I'm all for it."

She took another pull on her beer and then, put the bottle to his lips. He finished it off and placed the empty on the table, when she lowered her mouth to his. She artfully made out with her man while slowly unbuttoning his shirt. She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, her mouth never leaving his. She teased him as she slowly pulled down on his zipper, and then, she skillfully went down on him. Mission accomplished.

Winona couldn't get enough of him. For after tomorrow, she didn't know for certain when she would see him again.

_(To be continued … )_


	18. Chapter 18

_Chapter 17_

_The Hills of Harlan_

The next morning, Raylan made arrangements to meet Tim downstairs in the hotel restaurant. If Tim was going to ride with him into the hills of Harlan County, Raylan figured the least he could do was to buy the younger marshal some breakfast. He was up and showered before Winona even stirred. He toweled off and dressed, and as he tightened his belt buckle, she opened her eyes.

"Now before you start, as much as I'd love to stay here and make love to ya' all day long, I gotta do this," he said.

"You _wish_ you could make love to me all day long," she smiled. "After yesterday, I figure you need some time to replenish your reserves before we go again."

"Do say?" he grinned. "If I play my cards right, I could be back here by two-thirty or three. That'd give us some time before we need to leave for the airport."

"I'd like that," she returned the smile.

Winona crawled out of bed and headed for the crib. She reached down and found Willa to be awake and uncharacteristically quiet. "How are you doing this morning?" she asked her baby, lifting her out of the crib. She ran her hand over Willa's hair. "Her hair is damp," she remarked to Raylan.

"Is she runnin' a fever?" Raylan wanted to know. "Want me to get the thermometer?"

"Please," Winona said, rubbing Willa's back.

He handed her the ear thermometer, and she handed Willa to him. He sat down on the corner of the bed so that Winona could have access to Willa's ear.

"99.8," she read. "That is so strange."

"Are you and Gayle goin' out to your Dad's?" he asked.

"Well, I wanted to," she said, headed for the diaper bag to grab a diaper and the wipes. "She said to come over to her place, and we'd see how Willa's doing. The sad thing is, Gayle said Daddy might not even know if we were there or not. Guess we'll call and see how his day is going. She stood there in the middle of the room. "I know she's right, but I'd like to see him again if I could."

Raylan lay Willa down on her back so her mama could change her diaper. Jokingly, he stuck his tongue out at her. She didn't mimic him … she stared up at him. "She's not herself," he noted.

Winona went about changing the diaper. "Maybe she _is_ still teething," Winona shrugged. "Or maybe she's got a little bug."

Raylan went to the nightstand to grab his gun and his hat. He picked up the locket and slid it onto one of the envelopes from the desk. "I'll ask Tim to drive us today. Leave the keys with you to the Lincoln."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I can rent a car for the day downstairs."

"No need. Plus her car seat's already in the Lincoln," he took a deep breath in. "It'd make me feel better. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, gently guiding Willa's arms out of her sleeper.

Raylan leaned down and gave Winona a kiss that included a little tongue. She responded in kind and slipped a hand around to squeeze his butt.

"I'll see you girls later," he said, grinning as he placed the hat on. "Call me if ya' need anything."

"Alright," she said. "We'll be fine." And as he headed for the door, she said, "Raylan? Good luck with Tami Jo."

With the envelope containing the locket in one hand and the other on the doorknob, he turned and said, "Thanks."

Walking with a particularly long stride, Raylan was at the elevator in no time. When the doors opened at the Lobby level, he was surprised to see Tim standing there, waiting for him holding a carrier with coffees and a paper bag.

"I was gonna buy ya' breakfast," Raylan scowled.

"You said you were in a hurry to get there," Tim shrugged. "Plus I don't want to push my luck with Art. I _will_ take a rain check on that breakfast."

"You got it," Raylan nodded. He was in hurry to get there. "Shall we go?"

The two walked toward the front entrance.

"I thought the real reason you didn't want to have breakfast here … and that's fine … is because ya' didn't want to run into Mandi," Raylan suggested.

"She is a wild one," Tim admitted. "I've been avoiding Randi, too."

"I don't think she works here anymore," Raylan offered. "I'm under the impression she got herself fired."

"Bad for her, good for us," Tim chuckled.

"I got one more favor to ask ya'," Raylan reached over and took his designated coffee from the cardboard drink carrier. "I need ya' to drive. Willa's a little under the weather, and I'm leavin' the Lincoln with Winona … just in case."

"Well, alright," Tim sounded put out. "But now, you're gonna buy me lunch, too."

"Deal," Raylan agreed.

"And you can tip the valet," Tim added, handing a claim ticket to the bellman.

"Why'd ya' use valet parkin' if we were gonna take off?" Raylan asked, taking a sip of his coffee. It was too hot and burned the tip of his tongue.

Tim pointed all around. "Convention of car dealers," enlightened his fellow marshal. There was a sea of shiny new cars.

"Remind me to text Winona about that when we get on the road," Raylan said, as his hands weren't free.

A moment later, the bellman returned with Tim's rig. Raylan placed his coffee on top of the hood and pulled a few bills out of his wallet for the tip. With a long reach, he passed the cash off to Tim, who exchanged the ones for his keys. And they were off for the long drive to the hills of Harlan County.

On the highway, Raylan adjusted his seat back to give him more leg room. Without having to be reminded, he pulled out his phone and texted Winona, warning her about the car dealers' convention and to let the valet park the car when she returned. There no point in her dealing with the chaos of a full hotel and a baby who was under par.

"Bear claw?" Tim asked, passing the paper bag to Raylan.

With the text sent, he shoved his phone inside his jacket pocket and peaked inside the bag. "Hell, Tim. Wouldya' like a little donut with your coffee?"

"What?" Tim looked over at him.

"Jeez, you gotta couple of bear claws, maple bars, and what's this here?"

"Those are Boston creams," Tim explained. "And those maple bars aren't just any ordinary maple bar."

Raylan waited for more information.

"Those are maple flavored bacon bars."

"That sounds either really, really good or really, really bad," Raylan remarked.

With authority Tim assured, "Oh, those are really, really good. I ate two of them on the way over to the hotel."

"As much as I like bacon, I prefer the real thing," Raylan said. "I think I'll go for the bear claw."

Once again, Tim spoke with authority. "There is real bacon in those bars."

Raylan dropped the bear claw back in the bag and tentatively grabbed a bar. He looked at it and brought it closer as he studied it.

Watching him out of the corner of his eye, Tim said, "It's not gonna bite you."

Raylan sniffed it. "Smells like bacon."

"Because it _is _bacon." Tim was talking with hands on top of the steering wheel.

Finally, Raylan took a bite. "Hmmm," he said with a full mouth. "This is good."

"Told you," Tim maintained. "They had a jalepeno jelly one I wanted to try, too. Maybe next time."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

It had been several hours, and Raylan prepared Tim as best he could about meeting the Hill People. Tim was aware of what happened the last time Raylan went up there, looking for Drew Thompson. But somehow, hearing it as a story and staring at it face to face were going to be two entirely different things.

Raylan was glad he would have a sharpshooter as good a Tim with him. He could approach things from a place of strength, if need be. Tim drove up a rural road until the pavement ran out. At that point, the two got out of his truck and begin hiking up the hill on foot.

When they reached a lone Virginia pine tree in the clearing that Raylan remembered from his last visit, he shouted out in the middle of nowhere, "This is Raylan Givens, Frances Givens' boy! I need to talk to Mary!"

A few moments later, three nefarious looking red necks emerged with their rifles and shot guns drawn. Raylan recognized the oldest.

"You 'member me from the last time I was here, don'tcha?" Raylan asked, revealing his Federal Marshal Service star on his belt and his hand on his Glock.

The older man squinted, trying to get a better look at Raylan.

"I was here, lookin' for Drew Thomson, and one of your boys brought Mary to me. I'm Frances Givens' son." Raylan continued, "And this here is Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson. He's a sharp shooter. You don't wanna cross him." After a beat, he repeated, "I need to talk to Mary. About somethin' personal."

Without saying a word and a dip of his head, the old man signaled to one of the other two to take off, leaving things even. That left four armed men, two on one side and two on the other, staring each other down. A tense five minutes seemed like a lot longer, the amount of time it took the third man to return with Cousin Mary.

"Mary. Thank ya' for comin'," Raylan said as his second cousin made her way towards him. "I need to talk to ya' about somethin' personal. About her." He handed Mary the locket.

The older woman took the locket and held it out to almost arm's length so she could see it.

"It's alright," she said to the men. "Give us a few minutes in private, ya' hear?"

The men lowered their shotguns and rifles and backed off in the distance, giving Mary and Raylan some space. Tim took his hand off his service gun and backed up as well.

Once alone, Raylan said, "After my father died, I inherited some of his and my mama's belongin's, includin' the family Bible. I found an entry about a sister I never knew I had, named Tami Jo. And I found that locket there."

Mary continued to stare at the picture in the locket.

Raylan continued, "I went up to see Elstin Limehouse yesterday, and one of the old cooks told me that my mama was there, working at Limehouse's little diner while she was pregnant with a second child. It was when Arlo was doin' a stint in prison. But that's all he could tell me. Now, with all my kin gone, I need to find out. Did I have a sister? And if I did, what happened to her?"

"He's not tellin' you everythin'," Mary finally spoke. "Yeah, your mama had a bastard child, didn't belong to your daddy. Frances was between a rock and hard place with your daddy in Little Sandy for swindlin' Bo Crowder. While he was gone, your mama was with child and had you to feed, so she went to work for Elstin and had the baby girl in Noble's Holler. When it was time for the baby to come, I was there with her. Helen was still off with that trucker." Mary spit on the ground. "She came home a coupla months later with her tail between her legs."

Raylan hung onto Mary's every word. Although Raylan knew of Arlo's extensive prison record, he didn't know the details about that particular stint. Only what was on Microfiche records, and certainly not that Bo Crowder was involved, though he thought to himself that nothing would surprise him about the Crowders. "What happened to the baby?"

"I had to talk Frances outta keepin' the little thing," Mary said. "She wanted to, but back in those days, she and the child and your family woulda been shunned. That and your daddy woulda beaten her to within an inch-a her life if he ever found out. I don't believe your daddy ever knew."

Again Raylan thought to himself, _"Ironic. Woulda been shunned for havin' a child outta wedlock, yet goin' to prison and beatin' your wife were like wearnin' badges of honor in Harlan."_

"Elstin had one-a his men take the baby to Louisiana to be adopted." Mary closed the locket and handed it back to Raylan. "I'm afraid that's all I can tell ya'. Now that everyone's gone, it won't do no harm for ya' to know."

"Everyone's gone but me … and Tami Jo," Raylan corrected his older cousin. "And you, of course."

"I didn't know Frances named her," Mary offered. "We never talked about it again." His cousin sighed. "It broke your mama's heart. She weren't ever the same after that."

Raylan believed her. Mary had always been straight with him which was why he was there talking to her.

"I hear you gotta baby girl," Mary said.

"Yeah, I do," Raylan gave her a little smile. "Her name's Willa." Raylan pulled out his wallet from his back jeans pocket and fished out a picture to show his cousin. "She's four months old in this one."

Mary scrutinized the picture. "I see Frances in her," the older woman smiled. "She's a pretty little thing. Is she a good girl?"

Raylan smiled, thinking about her. "Yeah, she is. I'd say she takes after her mama on that."

"You gonna try and find your half-sister?" Mary asked, handing the photograph back to Raylan.

Placing it back into his wallet, he said, "You know I am."

"Good luck to ya', Raylan," Mary offered.

"Thank ya, m'am." Raylan tipped his hat. "It was good seein' ya' again, Mary."

"It was good to see ya', too," the old woman replied and watched him and his fellow deputy walk away. After a moment she yelled. "Raylan?"

He turned back.

"You find that girl, and you can bring her up sometime. I'd love to meet her."

"I'll see what I can do." He waved a final goodbye and picked up his pace to catch up with Tim.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"So where did you say Raylan went?" Gayle cuddled her niece on her lap and looked across the table at her sister. Sunlight steamed in through the windows of the breakfast nook nestled in the corner of Gayle's kitchen, and Willa followed the sunbeams with her eyes.

Winona sipped her coffee, considering how much to tell. It was Raylan's business, but in the end, the need to share with someone won out. "We were looking through some stuff from Arlo – Raylan's father – and found out Raylan might have a sister."

Gayle's eyes widened. "A sister? How could he not have known?"

"Well, a half-sister, anyways." She looked at Willa who had stuck one thumb in her mouth and was tugging at her ear with the other hand. Her little cheeks were flushed pink. "Does she feel warm to you?"

Gayle pressed the inside of her wrist against the baby's forehead. "A little. Did she have a fever last night?"

Winona nodded. "99.2 . . . and she hardly nursed at all. That's why Raylan bought the Pedialyte. And it was up a little when she woke up this morning, but it's stayed hovering under 100.0."

"At least she's taken that. Did you bring the thermometer?"

Fishing into the diaper bag, Winona came up with the device and handed it to her sister.

Gayle's brow furrowed. "101.4. You said she's been teething, right? Davis had an ear infection every time he cut a tooth," Gayle said, speaking of her oldest. "I bet that's what's going on. Look at her pull on that ear."

As if on cue, Willa began to whimper, and Winona held out her arms for her daughter. "It's okay, baby," she murmured. She tried the breast again, but Willa pursed her lips and turned her head. A moment later, the whimpers turned to full-fledged wails. "Should we take her to Urgent Care?"

"Let's give her a little bath and see if we can't get that fever down. If it gets worse, then we'll take her."

An hour later, Willa's fever was 102 and they were on their way to Express Care. Knowing the cell service in the hills was sketchy, Winona didn't expect Raylan to answer, and he didn't. She left a message on his voice mail.

The waiting room at the urgent care was crowded with weary mothers holding sniveling children. At the desk, Winona was told there would be at least an hour wait.

"So much for 'urgent'," she muttered to Gayle. She held Willa close, not liking her daughter's uncharacteristic lethargy. Willa had even rejected the monkey, tossing it to the floor in the van on the way there.

"I'm gonna call my pediatrician," Gayle said. "She's great. If I explain the situation, maybe they can work us in." She dug her cell phone out of the side pocket of her purse and pressed a number. Holding the phone to her ear, she moved to a quiet corner. A moment later, she gave Winona a thumbs up. "Let's go. The nurse said to bring her in. Either the doctor or one of the PA's will work us in."

"102.7," the dark-haired physician's assistant said, glancing at the notes on the chart. She listened to Willa's chest with her stethoscope. "No congestion, that's good." She pulled out another instrument and started to look into Willa's right ear. Immediately the baby whimpered and turned her head.

"I'm going to need you to hold her still," she told Winona. Willa's whimpers turned to screams as her mother held her down. Listening to her, Winona felt like crying herself. The P.A. looked first in one ear, then the other.

"Here's the problem. Poor baby has a double ear infection." She ran a hand over Willa's head. "I've got to do one more thing you aren't going to like." She held up an unfamiliar instrument, showing it to Winona. "I'll use this to send a puff of air into her ear. I'll be able to tell how much the eardrum vibrates. The less it vibrates, the more likely we're looking at a middle ear infection. Hold tight." She gave Winona an encouraging smile.

After the exam, Willa lay whimpering in her mother's arms. Another attempt at nursing had failed, but Amber, the P.A., told her not to worry, the Pedialyte would hold her over until the antibiotics kicked in.

"I thought they didn't prescribe antibiotics for ear infections anymore," Winona said.

"Has she had a cold or sniffles lately?"

"No," Winona shook her head. "Honestly, this is the first time she's ever been sick."

"It's probably bacterial then, and needs antibiotics. Her eardrums are practically rigid, and if they burst, that can cause scarring and hearing loss. I'm going to give her a shot and then give you a prescription for drops you can put on her tongue." She stroked Willa's cheek with a finger. "Tylenol will help with pain and the fever. She should feel better by tomorrow or the next day."

"We're supposed to fly back home tonight, " Winona said, worried.

The P.A. looked up, eyes wide with alarm. "Oh, she can't fly. The change in pressure during take-off and landing could rupture her eardrums."

"What am I going to do?" Winona said as she buckled Willa into the car seat and slipped in beside her, adjusting the seatbelt.

Gayle looked at her sympathetically. "Could you change your flight?"

"I doubt if the airline will let me change the tickets again on this late notice. I suppose we could just get one way tickets next week when she's better, but Amber said it could be ten days before she's okay to fly. We can't stay in the hotel that long, it would cost a fortune!"

"You could stay with us," Gayle offered. "Or would that cramp your and Raylan's style?" She raised an eyebrow at her sister in the rearview.

Winona flushed red under her sister's gaze.

"Oh, I really need to hear _all_ about this," Gayle said with a curious gleam in her eye.

_(To be continued . . . )_


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter 18_

_Davis_

30 miles outside of Lexington, Raylan had just about enough of Tim's barbs for one day.

"Would ya' stop bustin' my chops, already?" Raylan complained. "Hell, I bought ya' a nice lunch, I owe ya' a nice breakfast. Sheesh."

Tim chuckled. "You're too easy and too much fun. I don't know anyone else who comes from a family he can't stand, and some more he doesn't even know. But those Hill People take the cake."

"I'm so happy you're amused," Raylan said in a sarcastic tone.

Tim would not let up. "And then, you've got a brand new, normal, ready-made family in your reach by way of a gorgeous woman like Winona and your beautiful baby girl, and you're going to let them leave, again? To stay here with the likes of Art and Rachel and me? I will be busting your chops today and every day just to remind you of how brilliant you really are." Tim turned his attention back to the road, then added, "And when Rachel and Art find out, they'll be joining in. I give it a week before we make you miserable enough to beg for a transfer."

Before he could open his mouth, Raylan was saved by a series of beeps from his cell, and he quickly retrieved the phone from inside his jacket.

_Voice mail_ the screen read.

He scrolled to the next screen to find he had two messages from Winona. He went back to his voice mail and listened.

"_Raylan, I don't want you to panic, but Gayle and I had to take Willa to the doctor. Poor honey has a double ear infection. Call me when you can."_

And then, message number two:

"_We went back to Gayle's house. The doctor said Willa can't fly for maybe the next 10 days. Give me a call when you can. I'm staying here until I hear from you."_

Raylan looked at the time the messages came in. It said 11:10 a.m.

"Damn AT&T," he swore. "Willa's sick, and Winona's been tryin' to reach me for almost three hours."

Tim looked over, not saying a word as he watched Raylan place a call.

"Winona. I'm so sorry. I swear I just got your messages. Is she alright?"

"She's going to be fine," Winona assured him. "But it's a good thing we took her in when we did, or she would have been really sick in a couple more hours. Anyway, she's on a prescription, her fever is down, and she's sleeping."

"We're about 20 minutes from Gayle's," he said, still sounding concerned. "I'll have Tim drop me off, and I'll drive us back to the hotel."

"Raylan," she said. "I had to cancel our flight. My _non-refundable_ flight." She sighed. "The doctor said Willa can't fly with these ears for about 10 days. I don't expect you to continue to put us up at that expensive hotel. And we certainly can't stay in that place you have above the bar. Gayle said we could stay here at her place. _All _of us."

There was silence.

"Raylan? Are you still there?" she asked, thinking maybe the call had dropped.

"I'm here," Raylan answered. "Look. Nothin' against your sister. That's a very nice offer, but I don't think I could do it. Be comfortable stayin' at your sister's. Besides, you didn't have time to pack your things, did ya'?"

"I threw all our dirty clothes in the suitcase and put them in the trunk," she recalled. "The bellman helped me carry everything down to the car. Anyway, I'm over here doing our laundry now. I have yours, too."

Raylan didn't think he much liked the way this scenario was shaping up … especially for him. "Did ya' check us outta the hotel?"

"Pretty much," she said. "I thought we were leaving and didn't think you'd be staying another night. And besides, with that convention there, the room rates doubled."

"_Shit,"_ he thought to himself, like this arrangement less and less with each passing moment.

Speaking closer into the receiver, as if Tim couldn't hear him, he asked, "Where am I gonna sleep?"

"In the spare room with us. Willa and me," she said very matter-of-factly. "What did you think?"

"Well, I dunno," Raylan scrubbed his whiskers with his hand. "On the sofa, I guess. Your sister's always been a little judgmental of . . . our relationship status."

Winona came clean. "She knows we're working on becoming a family again, and she's all for it."

Raylan knew Winona like a book when it came to her sister. "You didn't tell her that we're _back together_ ... as in details?" He flashed Tim a stern look.

There was a sigh on the other end. "She's my sister, Raylan," Winona confessed. "We tell each other . . . _things_."

"Ah, Jesus," Raylan said under his breath. He knew what that meant.

Tim couldn't help himself and busted up laughing. Raylan flashed him daggers.

"She's happy for us. It will be fine," Winona tried to assure him. "You'll see. And I grabbed your bourbon. It's in the suitcase. What Gayle doesn't know won't hurt her."

Skeptical, Raylan said, "I'll see ya' in a few."

"Havin' a sleepover at the sister-in-law's?" Tim smirked. "Sounds like fun."

"Shut-up, Tim."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Hello, Raylan," Gayle said, holding the door open.

Tim beeped the horn and waved as he pulled out of the driveway. In the street, he rolled down the window. "You have fun, now," he hollered.

Raylan gave him the finger. He turned back to Gayle, expecting a reprimand or at least a scowl, but she was smiling.

"Winona's napping with the baby. It's been a stressful day."

"How's Willa?"

Gayle was touched and frankly surprised at the intensity of concern that flashed in his eyes. Having never seen it before in her former brother-in-law, she uncharacteristically reached out and braced his shoulder. He looked down at her hand, confused.

"She'll be fine. Babies . . . children are so resilient," Gayle reassured. "She'll bounce back before you know it."

She led the way inside, making a path through the family room. Willa's pack-'n-play was already set up in one corner, next to a pile of G.I. Joes. A box full of Legos was on the table. A dark haired boy of about five peered around the corner. "Davis, come meet your Uncle Raylan," Gayle said.

The boy approached slowly. He had a cookie in one chubby hand. "Hi, I'm Davis," he said. "Where's your horse? Is it outside?" He took a bite of cookie and stared at Raylan intently.

Gayle laughed. "He doesn't have a horse, Honey."

"All cowboys have horses," the boy said with confidence. "Can I ride it?" The cookie found its way to his mouth again.

"Well, your mama is right, I don't have a horse," Raylan said. "And I'm not a cowboy. I'm a U.S. Marshal." He drew his jacket aside to show the boy the Marshal's star on his belt. The child's eyes widened.

"Is that a real gun?"

Gayle's eyes widened, too, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

Before she could start a lecture on gun safety, Raylan answered. "Yes. It's my gun. A Marshal is like a policeman, and I carry a gun so I can protect people from bad guys."

"Wow. Cool. Can I see it?"

"No, Davis," Gayle answered quickly.

Raylan squatted in front of the boy. "You must _never_ ever touch a gun, okay, Davis?" he said, his tone serious. "Don't even pick it up. Just go tell an adult."

"That's what Miss Megan says."

"Miss Megan is his preschool teacher," Gayle explained.

"You listen to Miss Megan," Raylan admonished. "Now if your mama will tell me where Aunt Winona put the keys to the car, I'll go put this in a safe place."

"Can I go wif you?"

Raylan glanced up at Gayle. "If your mama says it's okay, sure."

Gayle nodded. "Go get your shoes on."

The boy ran out of the room, and she hissed at Raylan as he stood. "Don't you let him handle that gun."

He screwed up his face. "I'm not gonna. You heard me." He sighed. "But he's curious. Does..." Raylan's brow furrowed as he searched his brain for the name of Gayle's husband, but he couldn't pull it up. "...your husband have guns?"

"Wade has a hunting rifle," she said. "And last year when there were some break-ins in the neighborhood he got a handgun, a little smaller than yours. It's in a lockbox under the bed."

_Not a great place to keep it if you're gonna need it in a hurry. _Raylan thought. He'd have to have a talk with Wade.

Davis reappeared wearing cowboy boots with his shorts and t-shirt. "I'm ready Uncle Raylan."

Gayle laughed. "Silly boy."

"I'm not silly," Davis insisted. "I'm a cowboy. Like Uncle Raylan." He looked up. "Are you Willa's daddy?"

"Yes, I am." Raylan nodded.

"She's okay . . . for a baby." Davis made a face.

"He's not a big fan of babies since his little brother was born."

"Kyle's not a baby anymore," the little boy said. "But he still takes a nap. He's tree."

"Th-th three," Gayle corrected.

"Whatever, Mom."

Raylan looked at Gayle. "I thought the attitude didn't start until they were teenagers."

"The attitude starts when they learn to talk," she said. "Just you wait."

Raylan decided it was a lot easier having a conversation with Willa who couldn't talk back yet. He wondered if Winona was right about the raspberry thing. Oh well, too late now. "Come on, sport, let's go store this gun somewhere safe." He headed for the door, Davis galloping behind on his imaginary horse.

Halfway down the walk Davis piped up. "If you're Willa's daddy and Aunt Winona is her mommy, home come you don't you have your _own_ house?"

"We're lookin', but we can't decide where we want to live," Raylan said.

"Jeremy's house is for sale," Davis said, pointing across the street. "Jeremy's daddy got a new job, and they moved away. You and Aunt Winona can buy Jeremy's house." They stopped at the Lincoln and Raylan popped the trunk.

"Jeremy was my fwiend." He peered into the trunk. "What'sat?" He asked, pointing inside the trunk.

"That's my Go Bag," he explained, grabbing the small duffle bag and unzipping it from the side.

"Wow, you got cool stuff," Davis said with excitement.

Raylan grinned. "You don't even know what this stuff is."

"I know," Davis nodded his head in agreement. "But it's cool!"

_Ahhh, to be idolized by a pre-schooler_, Raylan thought to himself.

"Do ya' know why we call it a Go Bag, Davis?" Raylan asked as he secured his weapon in the bag."

"So, you could play _'Go Dog Go'_?"

"No, but that's a good guess," Raylan began to close the trunk. "Watch the fingers," Raylan admonished.

As soon as Davis complied, Raylan slammed the trunk down. "It's so we're always ready to go in an emergency," Raylan explained.

"I have a Go Bag," Davis declared.

"You do?" Raylan played along.

"Yeah! Wanna see?" And the boy ran ahead of his uncle, bounding into the house.

Raylan followed, chuckling to himself. "I wish I had his energy," he said to Gayle as he came into the family room.

"You should see this one." She smiled at him as she stroked the back of a smaller, blonder boy she held on her hip. "Why don't we sit down?"

"Uh, okay," Raylan said, not sure where this was headed. He took off the hat and sat in the leather lounger catty-corner to the couch. Setting the hat on the end table, he looked at his former sister-in-law cautiously.

Gayle leaned back into the cushions and the sleepy toddler slid off her lap, curling up on the cushions with his thumb in his mouth. "Winona told me that the two of you are trying again."

"Yeah, we are. You know I've always loved her. And now there's Willa. I wanna be there for that baby girl."

"I know. And I'm glad you want to be a good father. But love doesn't always conquer all, not in real life anyway." She bit her lip, looking pensive, and very much like Winona. "I don't want to see my baby sister get hurt again. Or Willa," she added.

"Neither do I." Raylan struggled not to sound defensive. After all, it was Winona who'd done the leaving. Both times. Surely Gayle knew that.

"I know Winona isn't innocent in all of this," she said, practically on cue. "And I talked to her about it. It's not just the two of you anymore. You've got a child to think about. You can't just go bouncing in and out of each other's lives like a couple of horny ping pong balls."

"We know that, Gayle."

Winona's voice startled him, and Raylan looked up. His love stood in the doorway, a sleepy Willa in her arms. The hair was smashed on one side of her head and there were black circles of mascara under her eyes. Her shirt was rumpled. Still, she was beautiful. "Hey, Cowboy," she said, walking over and perching on the arm of the recliner.

"Hey yourself." He reached up and took Willa, setting her on his lap. "Are you feelin' better, baby girl?"

"She is," Winona said. "She just nursed and her fever is almost gone." She ran a hand through his hair. "Did you find out anything? About Tami Jo?"

He looked from Gayle to Winona and back, annoyed at Winona's over-sharing. Then, he checked himself. Gayle was going to be family. Gayle _was _family. He took a deep breath. "Cousin Mary told me she was there when the baby was born. She convinced my mama to give her up, since she wasn't Arlo's. If she knows who the father was, she's not telling. Elstin Limehouse arranged for the baby to be adopted down in Louisiana."

"So, you could have a sister?" Gayle said. "That's wonderful."

"Maybe," Raylan nodded. "But I'm a long way from findin' her. I'm not gettin' my hopes up."

"Uncle Raylan!" Davis rushed into the room, tugging a Spiderman backpack behind him. "See? I told you I have a Go Bag, too."

A broad smile came over Winona's face. "What do you have in your Go Bag?" Aunt Winona asked her nephew.

The young boy unzipped his back pack and turned it upside down, allowing its entire contents to spill out onto the family room floor.

Winona sat down cross-legged on the floor and began to pick through the little pile of stuff. "Oh, you've got Legos in your Go Bag, Davis?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded, joining his aunt on the floor.

"Never know when ya' might need to build somethin'," Raylan concurred.

"And some underwear," she continued to pick through the pile.

"_Clean_ underwear," Gayle chimed in. "That's my doing." Kyle stirred beside her on the couch, looking down at his big brother's collection with sleepy eyes.

"Good thinkin'," Raylan nodded, bringing Willa up higher to his shoulder so she could see, too.

"What's this?" Winona held up a key chain.

"That's my lucky rabbit's foot," Davis educated his aunt. "Gwampa gave it me."

"Oh," Winona declared. "It must be very special."

"Yeah," he nodded and bent down. "And my colors." He showed her his pack of Crayola crayons.

"Must have those for writin' important notes," Raylan interjected.

"No, Uncle Raylan," Davis corrected him. "No notes. Colors are for dwawing for pictures. Pencils are for notes."

"I stand corrected," Rayan sounded admonished by a pre-schooler.

Winona tried hard not to laugh.

"Did you know I'm named after my Grandpa?" Davis proudly asked.

"Yes, you are," Winona declared. "Oh, and I see you have snacks in your bag."

"Uh-huh. I have a gwanola bar and fwuit rollup."

"And money, too," Winona added, picking up a penny.

"Wait," Davis said. "That's my lucky penny. My daddy gave it to me." He held his hand out wanting it back from his aunt. She quickly dropped it in the palm of his little hand. Davis walked over to Raylan. "Here, you can keep it. You need luck being a Marwshal."

Gayle's heart melted, and Winona's wasn't far behind.

"Are ya' sure your daddy will think it's okay that ya' gave it to me?" Raylan asked.

"Uh-hun," Davis nodded. "He can find me a 'nodder one."

"Why thank you, Davis," Raylan said. He pulled out his wallet. "I'll keep it in a very safe place so I won't lose it."

"You have to put it in your Go Bag," Davis instructed.

"I will," he said in all seriousness to the boy. "I promise."

Winona looked up at Raylan, blue eyes twinkling. "Gee, your Go Bag isn't as cool as this one. And you don't have a Spider Man bag."

"Who do you like better, Spider Man or Batman?" Davis asked his uncle.

Raylan looked thoughtful as Willa pointed to the Legos. "I like 'em both, but you gotta admit, Spider Man is pretty cool."

"Uh-huh," Davis agreed.

Willa stretched her legs down so that her toes were digging into Raylan's thigh. "Look at you tryin' to stand," he smiled.

"Aunt Winona," Davis said. "Can Willa have some of my gwanola bar?"

She reached over and began to rub circles on Davis' back. "Lucky you. She doesn't have enough teeth yet to eat your delicious granola bar. You can have it _all_ to yourself. Give baby Willa another year or two, and she'll be all over it."

The boy did not look happy with her answer. She tried again. "Who gave you that delicious granola bar?"

Looking down he answered, "My mama."

"That's because she loves you so much," she continued to rub his back.

"Uh-huh," he nodded.

"She loves you so much that she's going to get pizza for supper," Gayle announced.

"Pizza?!" Davis cried. "Oh, boy. Can Aunt Winona and Uncle Raylan have some, too?"

"You bet."

Now, he studied Willa, his face serious. "I'm sorry you can't have pizza," he said.

"Gah!" Willa shrieked, batting her hands in the air.

"I don't think she minds," Raylan said. "But I bet she'd like it if you played with her."

"Not Legos," Davis said. "Babies might eat them or put them up their nose. Kyle put one of my Lego men up his nose, and we had to go to the 'mergency room. Now my Legos have to be on the top shelf."

"She likes to play patty-cake," Winona said. She held out her arms for Willa and sat her on her lap facing Davis. Willa leaned against her mama and Winona took the baby's hands, smacking them against her nephew's. "_Patty cake patty cake baker's man . . ." _they chanted. Kyle slid off the couch and joined them on the floor, watching.

Gayle caught Raylan's eye over their heads and smiled. It was about that time, his cell went off. It was Limehouse.

"Marshal Givens," Elstin began. "I understand you been up in the Hills talkin' to Mary, along with Marshal Tim."

Rather irritated, Raylan said under his breath, "You don't miss a trick, do ya' Elstin?"

"She says she told ya' yo' mama's baby was taken to Lousiana, shortly after she was born," he continued. "Since Mary don't mind you knowin' the deal and all the old players is dead, I don't see why you can't know the rest."

Surprised at Elstin's change of heart, Raylan responded. "I'm listenin'."

"A French Creole couple by the name of Andre and Marguerite Dumoir adopted the baby in Orleans Parish in February of 1973."

"Hold on for a second," Raylan requested, motioning to Gayle for something to write with. After she handed him a pen and pad, he asked, "Can ya' spell the names?"

Limehouse proceeded to spell out the family's first and last names. "Do ya' have any other information on her?"

"Yeah. The adoption was brokered through St. Augustine's Catholic Church there in New Orleans."

After a beat of silence, Rayan asked, "Is that all ya' know?"

"Well … there's one mo' thing. I heard that after Katrina, most of the Congregation relocated to Atlanta."

"And how do ya' know this?" Raylan pushed.

"I gots my ways," he replied. "And those ways is none o' yo' damn business."

"Fair enough," Raylan responded. "Can't blame me for tryin'. I appreciate the information, Elstin," Raylan said. "I really do."

"Good. I wish ya' luck in findin' yo' half-sister," Elstin said. "I'd say we're about even now, wouldn't you, Marshal?"

"If you say so. Again, thanks." And Raylan disconnected the call.

Hearing only Raylan's half the call, Winona looked up at him from where she was seated on the floor. "What did he say?"

Raylan let out a sigh as he continued scribbling notes about the conversation he just had. Then, he looked at her in the eyes. "You and me? We need to talk."

_(To be continued . . . )_


End file.
